


Montem Ascendes

by Lunaverse



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Oikawa Tooru's Knee Injury, UshiOi Week 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26996173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunaverse/pseuds/Lunaverse
Summary: To scale the summit of a mountain and reach for the stars, you must learn how to climb. And Tooru doesn't know yet at 15 years old, but there are multiple paths that lead to the top.OR: a collection of moments in the lives of Oikawa Tooru and Ushijima Wakatoshi as the years pass by and their relationship progresses.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa Tooru/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 49
Kudos: 158





	1. 100314

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact! The title for this is in Latin, the translation would be something among the lines of "You will climb the mountain" Ha! Those 6 years of studying Latin in high school finally became useful! 
> 
> You'll notice that I consistently refer to Wakatoshi exclusively as "Ushiwaka" in the first chapters, that's because this is written from Oikawa's perspective and it's his inner voice telling the story. The name will change once his perspective of Ushijima changes.

There were a lot of ways Tooru had envisioned his white day to go. Seeing Ushiwaka stand in front of him with a box of chocolate in his hands didn't fit in a single one of them. 

"Son of a bitch" Hajime cursed next to him. Ushiwaka's eyebrows furrowed into an ugly frown. 

"Could you go, please?" He asked, a little annoyed. Which he had absolutely  _ no _ right to be. If anyone was allowed to be annoyed, it was Tooru. 

But Hajime stared at the chocolate in Ushiwaka's hands, and then at Tooru, and shrugged. "Yeah, see you later."

"What? Iwa-chan! Don't leave me here with him!" Tooru hissed at his traitor of a best friend. 

"Don't drag me into this, shittykawa." Hajime hissed back. "Deal with it yourself." He slipped past Ushiwaka and continued his way home. Leaving Tooru alone with his arch-nemesis

"What are you doing here, Ushiwaka?" He sneered, as if the item in Ushiwaka's hands wasn't enough of an answer already. "You're a little far from Shiratorizawa aren't you? Did you get lost or something." 

"I am not lost." Ushiwaka protested, taking everything stupidly literally as always. He thrust the box forward. "I came to give you this." He said bruskly 

Tooru scoffed.  _ Clearly, I already knew that! _ Was what he really wanted to say. "Why?" He asked instead. 

Ushiwaka's dumb face twisted in confusion. "It's White Day." He said. "Were you not aware?"

Was Tooru aware?  _ Was he aware? _ Of course he was! He'd spend all day giving every girl who confessed to him a month ago on valentine's day chocolates. Because of some stupid rule that, even if you were gonna turn someone down, you still needed to give them chocolates. And Tooru was a gentleman, thank you very much. So he'd spend his savings on dozens of small boxes of chocolate and delivered them to the girls. Who then still cried because he wasn't actually gonna date them. Was he aware it was White day? What a joke! 

"Obviously I know!" He spat "What I don't know, is why  _ you're  _ here! You're supposed to give something in return from valentine's day!" He pretended to think for a while, tapping his food and scratching his head as if he was wrecking his brain for a memory. "No" he hummed. "I don't remember giving you  _ anything  _ on valentine's day! Because why would I do that?" 

Ushiwaka's expression shuttered, and Tooru reveled in the subtle downturn of his lips, the crease between his brows, the hurt in his eyes. He'd been waiting to see that expression on the court for years, but maybe this would do. 

"I was supposed to do this on valentine's day," Ushiwaka admits, eyes downcast and face red with embarrassment. "But I couldn't bring myself to do it then. So this was the next best.thing." 

"What, you chickened out?" Tooru snorted "You, the great Ushiwaka-chan, were too scared to…" 

_ tell a boy you like him _ , was how the sentence was supposed to end. 

_ tell a boy you like him.  _ But it wasn't just any boy now, was it?

_ tell me you like me _

_ you like me  _

He trailed off, left the unsaid words hanging between them like a thread. Binding the two of them together until one of them would actually say it and cut them loose. 

_ you like me _

No, no that couldn't be right. 

He looked at Ushiwaka, silence stretching between them. He studied his face, the olive-green eyes that had lifted from the ground to drill straight into his. Unyielding and determined, yet with a hint of fear hiding below the surface.

Which didn't make sense. Ushiwaka wasn't  _ scared _ of him. He'd never been. He was always so aggravatingly and indisputably above Tooru, barely even concerned about the prospect of Tooru surpassing or beating him. Like it was impossible, he was just that far ahead. 

That was the difference between a genius and a normal human. 

And in that truth, there was no room for fear in those eyes, or for expensive white chocolate in an outstretched hand. 

"Well, Ushiwaka-chan. I have to say I didn't expect your acting abilities to be this stellar." He said through gritted teeth. "But you can stop now. Just go home." It had to be fake, one of Ushiwaka's annoying teammates must've put him up to it. Or maybe they'd heard…  _ god, no, anything but that. Please. _

But at least Ushiwaka himself was so absurdly direct and empty of shame that he'd admit it and leave if Tooru called him out. He squinted at the invisible thread holding them in place.  _ Go ahead, snap. Let me go.  _

It refused to break. Ushiwaka didn't leave. In fact, he did the opposite. He stepped forward, towering over Tooru. The fear in his eyes gone, replaced with anger. 

"Do not patronize me." He said, "I do not expect you to accept, but do not dismiss my feelings."

Tooru breaks eye contact first. Lost, again. 

"For a supposed confession, you sure are rude!" He scoffed, grinding his shoe into the dirt. He just wanted to get this over with and forget about it forever. "How am I supposed to take this seriously when you're not even saying anything nice about me? All the girls that confessed to me on valentine's day wouldn't stop talking about how handsome and cool I was!" 

Ushiwaka flinched and took a half step back. Tooru could finally breathe again. 

"My apologies," he said, head down as if he was steeling himself for an attack. "I hadn't considered the possibility of other people, if you already have a girlfriend then-" 

"What? No, of course I don't! I'm-" 

He stopped, cutting off the sentence at the last moment. Ushiwaka was still not looking at him, eyes focused on the weeds sprouting between the stones of the pavement. 

_ I was about to tell him. _ He realized. 

He hadn't told anyone except Iwa-chan, in a moment of weakness after a row of sleepless nights full of stress. And he wasn't planning on else. Was prepared to wait it out and, if that didn't work, pretend for as long as he could. That it was volleyball that prevented him from having a girlfriend, that the stack of sport's magazines under his bed was there because he was an athlete. 

And yet here he was.

He looked at the box in Ushiwaka's hands and thought about what it meant. 

_ Do not dismiss my feelings _ .

If he wasn't messing with him, if this was real. Then Ushiwaka was admitting so much by coming to him on White Day, taking such a high risk for such a low chance of reward. 

After everything he had already beaten him at, Ushiwaka was also braver than him. It just wasn't fair. 

"I'm gay." There. He'd done it. Given his biggest secret to his worst enemy. The ball was in Ushiwaka's court now. 

Ushiwaka's head snapped up, looking at him with wide eyes. Emotions open and clear on a usually so stoic face.

Funny, how Tooru had been desperately searching for any semblance of power he could hold over him when it had been there all along. Merely off the court, instead of on it. 

"That doesn't mean I like  _ you _ , specifically!" He reminded him. "But I'll listen. Go on, Ushiwaka-chan." 

"Alright." Ushiwaka straightened up, as if it was possible for him so stand even more ramrod-straight than he already was. Tooru clenched his jaw. Just wait it out.

"I've always admired you as a player, which is why I urged you to come to Shiratorizawa after middle school." 

"Don't bring that up now," Tooru whined. Didn't Ushiwaka know you were supposed to evoke goodwill during a confession? Which meant  _ not _ talking about all the times you annoyed them! 

Ushiwaka frowned again "Please. Do not interrupt me." 

_ Seriously? _ "Fine, I'll be quiet" he huffed. 

"I thought my admiration for you was limited to your skill as a setter and as a rival, and I was content with that. But I've found… that I'm not. I want to know you outside the mere 45 minutes I get in a game. That my desire to have you on the same team as me. Yes, I know you told me not to speak of it." He lifts his hand as if to halt Tooru from saying something.

As if Tooru was going to interrupt him again. They hadn't even gotten the actual confessing part and he was already red in the face. How embarrassing! How was he supposed to face and defeat Ushiwaka in the future while knowing that  _ this  _ was what Ushiwaka thought during a match?

"Me wishing we were on the same team went beyond the fact that you were an amazing player. I saw the way you interacted with your teammates, with your friends. And I wanted that, too. I wanted to be someone who made you laugh instead of grimace. And I wanted to train with you, spend more time with you." 

He looked bashful at the admission, cheeks tainted red. And the earth stopped spinning around its axis and the planets rearranged themselves in the solar system to make room for a reality in which this was real. In which Ushijima Wakatoshi  _ wanted  _ him. 

"And recently I realized that all of that desire meant that I didn't want to be your friend. I wanted to be more than that." He continued, blushing and eyes shining with small gold speckles looking entirely  _ too soft. _

"Simply put, I'm in love with you." 

"You can't say that." Tooru choked out. "You don't even know me!"  __

"Fine, I am infatuated with you, then." Ushiwaka corrected himself. "But I would like to. Know you enough to be in love with you, I mean." 

He offered him the box in his hands once again. "I do not expect you to return my feelings. But please do accept these." 

Tooru remained silent, inspecting the box. It was clearly expensive, high-quality chocolate. The fact that it came from  _ Ushiwaka _ was unacceptable. But a lot of things today were unacceptable or impossible in some way. Why shouldn't he get to enjoy something sweet after all of it? 

"Well… I suppose it is nice to be given something after I've spent the whole day giving other people chocolate." He mused, raising a taunting eyebrow at Ushiwaka. He extended his hand, just enough to show his acceptance, and Ushiwaka delicately placed the box in his hold. 

"I know it's futile. But I couldn't stop myself from wondering about the possibility of your answer being yes." He confessed. "So: The Aoba festival in Sendai starts this Saturday." A shadow of a smile passed over his face. "A funny coincidence, considering where you're going. I was hoping you'd want to come with me." He let go of the box and steps back. The thread finally,  _ finally _ snapped.

"If you change your mind, I'll be at the station by 10." He bowed to Tooru, spared him one last glance as he straightened up, and then he was gone. 

Tooru walked home in a daze. Chocolate pressed tightly to his chest and limbs working purely on habit and muscle memory. He escaped to his room, carefully placing the box on his desk before faceplanting into his bed. 

There was so much he had to do. Homework, chores, he still had to call Hajime and make him pay for leaving him alone with Ushiwaka when he could have prevented  _ everything that just happened!  _

Instead, he rolled over in his bed and gazed at the ceiling. Turning over the events of that afternoon in his head. Contemplating the new reality he now inhibited, in which geniuses could look down at mortals and decide that they wanted to be next to them. 

After what could have been an eternity, were it not for the light rays coming through how window not having faded yet, he sat up and took in his room, his desk, the box of sweets. He reached out and carefully, delicately, opened it. 

Inside was an arrangement of variously shaped chocolates with different fillings. All had a white chocolate coating, though. It was a White day git, after all. Apparently, Ushiwaka was a traditionalist. Which wasn't surprising, especially not compared to all the other things Ushiwaka had revealed himself to be today. 

Quietly, he picked one in the shape of a sea shell and popped it in his mouth. Sweet taste exploded in his mouth. He'd been right in his initial judgment, this was expensive chocolate. 

There were still so many things he had to do. Beyond homework chores and revenge, he should train his serves at the local gym, prepare himself for highschool, go out with friends he would no longer be having classes with as a last goodbye. 

Or he could…

"Mom!" He called out to the living room. "Do we have anything planned this Saturday?"

.

.

.

"What's that?"

"Nothing" Tooru quickly hid the package behind his back, but it was too late. Hajime stalked towards him, shit-eating grin on his face. 

"What are you hiding behind your back, shittykawa?"

"Well maybe I would have told you, but you're being mean. So suck it!" He stuck out his tongue for good measure. "Stupid Iwa-chan!" 

Hajime tried to grab his arm "Give that here!" 

"No!" 

"Let me see!"

"Never-OW!" 

He stumbled back and clutched his shoulder as Hajime made use of the situation by stealing the package and running to a safe distance. 

"Iwa-chan you meanie." He whined, "You hit me!" 

Hajime didn't say anything back. He just stared at the box in his hand.

"You bought White Day chocolate?" 

"Well, it's not even white day anymore, so no." 

It was white day chocolate, though. For only half the price, since the holiday was over. Tooru had a sweet tooth, it'd be totally normal for him to buy discounted chocolate to enjoy for himself

This time though, that was not the case. And it was only a matter of time before his best friend found out why. 

Hajime's eyebrows scrunched together, like two caterpillars crawling over his face. Tooru watched as they traveled from confused to suspicious to surprise and finally, realization.

"Holy shit..."

"Shut up!" 

"You're actually going!" He yelled. "You're going on a date with ushmpfahmsjpf-" 

"Stop talking!" Tooru hissed, firmly slapping his hand over Hajime's mouth. "I am NOT! How dare you suggest that!" 

Hajime bit his hand

"OW"

"That's what you get, crappykawa!" Hajime snickered, before going eerily quiet.

Tooru waited, bracing himself. He looked around their neighborhood, sun just barely above the horizon, casting the street in a warm orange glow. 

"You know it's fine, right?"

He turned to Hajime. His best friend, the person who knew him more than anyone else, basked in golden light with a too-serious expression on his face. 

"What?"

"You know it's fine, right? If you like him." Hajime repeated. "I don't get it, he sucks. But I'm not gonna get mad at you. Not really, at least." 

"But I don't" Tooru sat down on the grass and curled in on himself. "I don't like him." He insisted. 

"You bought him white day chocolate." Hajime held up the box. It was nowhere near as expensive as the one Ushiwaka had given him, discounted price-tag still on the packaging. A small defense against the cosmic realization that he was buying  _ chocolate  _ for  _ Ushiwaka. _ But Tooru had bought it from a bakery that always made his favorite sweets so he knew it was good. He couldn't just walk into the very first cheap grocery store, no, he just had to put in the effort. For what?

Tooru lied down, sprawled out in the grass of his garden. Looking at the sky. If he waited for another hour, it'd be dark enough to see the stars.

"I'm gonna go with him to a festival tomorrow, maybe. Probably." 

"But you don't like him?"

"No."

"Then  _ why?" _

"I don't know!" He entangled his fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands and kicking the grass like a petulant child. "I don't know, I don't get it!" 

Was he just being nice to Ushiwaka? Trying to protect his feelings?

No… he remembered the surge of power he felt yesterday, when he saw the pain on Ushiwaka's dumb face.  _ I'm definitely not afraid of hurting him. I might even want to.  _

Hajime said nothing. The sun sank even lower, turning orange into rose gold. 

_ If you change your mind _

Pink and purple reflecting in the clouds, red light filtering down to earth, green eyes with small golden speckles. 

_ I'll be at the station tomorrow by 10.  _

"I guess… I just want to understand," He sighed

"I can't figure out why he likes me."

Hajime snorted, loudly. "I get that, you're insufferable" 

"Screw you! I'm a delight to be around!"

"Well, there's your answer then." 

"No!  _ He's _ not supposed to think that!" Tooru shrieked, moving to whack Hajime in the face.

"Tooru!" The door opened and his sister's face stuck through, Hajime quickly hid the chocolate behind his own back. "Dinner's ready! And Haji-chan needs to go home." She disappeared just as quickly, probably to drag Takeru away from the TV. 

"Here." The box was pressed to his chest. He craned his neck to see Hajime smirking down at him. "Guess you can find out why he likes you on your  _ date! _ " 

"Shut up, Iwa-chan!"

" _ You _ shut up shittykawa!"

.

.

.

The nearest train station to his house was nowhere near as big as Sendai station. It had only two platforms. And on one of them, there was a young boy with dark hair dressed in neat clothes, leaning against a wall. 

Tooru halted and watched him for a while. Box of chocolate in his hands. 

_ I must be crazy _ . He thought to himself. 

"Hey, Ushiwaka-chan!" The boy whirled around, and Tooru slowly took him in. The carefully styled bangs falling over his forehead, the flabbergasted expression on his face as he stood there, frozen. Eyes widening as they fell on the box in Tooru's hands. 

Wide green eyes with golden speckles. 

Tooru smiled and patted his shoulder. "Don't just stand there with your mouth open, silly Ushiwaka-chan, We've got a train to catch!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there actually IS such a thing as the Sendai Aoba shrine festival. In real life, it's held in may and not march. But since my western ass doesn't exactly have a lot of knowledge of local shrines and festivals in Miyagi (And the fact that it was never specified in which part of Miyagi any of these schools actually are, it's a damn big place! Sendai's basically the ONLY city we get any mention by name of!) i have decided to bend the rules of reality for the sake of gay symbolism™. Just like the fact that in 2010 (the year this theoretically should take place in) march 14th aka White Day was actually on a Sunday. We're ignoring that. It's a Thursday now, got it?
> 
> You can follow me [here](https://twitter.com/lgbtloonaverse) on twitter! I'm always in the mood for crying about rarepairs together.


	2. 100316

"Alright, Ushiwaka-chan! I have two rules." Tooru held up two fingers and watched Ushiwaka's eyes cross as he tried to focus on them. 

"One, you pay for everything." It was only fair, right. Ushiwaka asked him out, so he should be paying. And it wasn't like Tooru was like those girls who liked to shop a lot and drain their boyfriend's wallet, so he had no reason to complain! 

"And two," he wiggled his fingers "No talking about volleyball!" 

Ushiwaka frowned, the furrow between his eyebrows and confused head-tilt strangely childish for someone so tall. "Why?"

"Because we're enemies, silly Ushiwaka," Tooru sighed, talking slowly as if he was explaining something to a small child, enjoying the way Ushiwaka's lips stretched into a thin line and he clenched his jaw in annoyance. "And since this is a date, you shouldn't be talking about things that remind me of why I really don't want to be here with you." 

By the end of the day, Tooru would probably have irritated him so much that he'd give up and they could both forget this. But until then, Tooru was going to enjoy this as much as he could possibly enjoy spending a day with Ushiwaka. 

"Now come on!" He tugged on Ushiwaka's sleeve, not giving him the time to say anything in return. "Let's go to Kotodai park! I want Kakigori." and he dragged him along through the sea of festival-goers. 

The sound of Taiko drums and shakuhachi flutes surrounded them as they walked into the park. Colors and music and the smell of delicious food forming a symphony of happiness and festivity. It was impossible not to get swept up in the atmosphere, even with poor company. 

"Hey, Ushiwaka! Check if my tongue is blue!" Tooru stuck his tongue out with a cheeky glint in his eyes after practically inhaling the saved ice within 2 minutes. Ushiwaka squinted and leaned forward to inspect his mouth. _So weird! You can see color from a distance right? Why does he have to be so close!_

"It looks the same to me," Ushiwaka said in his monotone voice, and Tooru pouted. "Well, that's stupid. Come on then, we're not done yet! I'm feeling... some chocolate Taiyaki!" Again, Ushiwaka's brows furrowed, but he didn't say anything. 

Fine! If he was gonna be quiet and boring the whole day then Tooru was just going to eat his free food. Good enough for him!

"We should get a bag too if you're gonna be carrying that around all day" Tooru nodded at the box of chocolates Ushiwaka was holding under his arm. "Oh! Let's see if anyone is selling some handmade woven ones! My mother has those, they're so pretty." 

Sendai was black with people everywhere they went. Large groups with brightly colored matsuri Hanten jackets, in between tourists dressed in western summer attire, they passed by a crowd of kids in traditional clothing practicing the sparrow dance and Tooru cooed at a young girl, she couldn't be older than 5, who was frowning deeply when she couldn't get the dance right, tongue sticking out as she focused intently trying to copy the older kids' movements. 

"It's always so cute when children act stoic." He chucked. "I bet you looked like that all the time as a child. Right, Ushiwaka?" He turned to him and poked at his face. Ushiwaka grimaced, accidentally making the exact grumpy expression Tooru was talking about. He couldn't help it, a snort escaped him. 

"Yes! Exactly like that!" He grinned. "I bet you didn't smile at all, can you even smile? It probably looks weird." 

Ushiwaka didn't retaliate. He looked away, but Tooru saw the tightness in his jaw, the way he was holding himself back. 

_Yeah, bet you're regretting it now, aren't you?_ Tooru thought with bitterness. Ushiwaka wanted to know the real him? Well, here it was. And he wouldn't like it. 

Except that, when he wasn't insulting him, Ushiwaka kept looking at him with a glimmer of bewilderment. Like he still couldn't believe Tooru was actually here. When Tooru was laughing with an old lady selling little statues he caught a glimpse of him in the corner of his eye and the look on Ushiwaka's face left him speechless. 

_Awe_

He bit his tongue and bid the woman goodbye. "Find us a place to sit" he muttered at Ushiwaka, voice unstable. Yet, as always, without any complaint, he nodded and led the way. Tooru followed. 

It was a familiar sight, he thought, watching Ushijima's back. Always one step, one point ahead of him. 

Except… he kept turning around to look at Tooru, to check if he was still following. Tooru looked down and saw Ushiwaka's right hand twitch, clenching and unclenching, hesitating to reach out backward and drag Tooru with him. 

He didn't understand.

_How can you think of me like this? When you've always been so far ahead of me? Are you too blind to realize that when you look at me, you're looking back?_

And in the middle of all of Tooru's emotional turmoil, Ushiwaka stayed mute. He paid for whatever Tooru asked, let himself be dragged along, or was the one leading Tooru through a crowd. But he didn't say a word. He looked like he wanted to, a few times, but then he reeled himself in. 

Which was weird, because Ushiwaka _never_ held himself back from saying what he thought. He certainly never did when insulting Tooru's teammates and decisions, or when calling him petty and prideful. 

So why now? 

He waited and observed, let the thread between them go taught just like when Ushiwaka had confessed to him. But there was something so fundamentally _wrong_ about the way Ushiwaka swallowed his own words before they could escape that he snapped. 

"Why are you being so quiet?" He spat, startling Ushiwaka, who stared at him in silent confusion. "You've barely said a word since we arrived! You were the one who wanted this, not me! But you're not even trying! Is it because I told you not to talk about volleyball? Is there really nothing else in that big empty brain of yours?!" 

Ushiwaka let him scream in his face, unmoving like a stone wall. Tooru wanted to throw something heavy at him just to see him _move_ for once. 

"I try not to speak," He said slowly, carefully "because I do not want to offend you." 

He spoke gently and calmly, as if Tooru was a toddler throwing a tantrum. The humiliation spread through him like a biting acid, corroding his insides and burning up his lungs. 

"So you can't say _anything_ without making me angry?" He seethed. All he got in return was a shrug. 

"It seems not." 

Tooru saw red. "So it's _my_ fault then?" He didn't care that his voice sounded shrill, or that a few passersby had stopped walking and were staring at them, or that he could feel the familiar pressure of tears building up behind his eyes. 

How had he thought this was a good idea? That he and Ushiwaka could exist anywhere near each other without it leading to this? 

"You misunderstand." Ushiwaka said

"Oh, I'm _sure_ I do! Explain it to me then, oh great Ushiwaka-chan." Tooru sneered. 

"It is not…" he knitted his brows, pensive. Opened his mouth and then closed it again, looking for words he couldn't find. "It is not _you_. I am the one who doesn't know how to talk to you." 

Tooru raised an eyebrow. "If this is an apology for mocking me and my decisions, you're not doing a very good job of it."

"It is not," Ushiwaka said. "I stand by everything I said. I do not say things I don't mean." And, _ah_ , there was that ridiculous confidence again. Tooru had started to wonder where it went. 

"But," Ushiwaka continued. "I do not stand by mocking you." 

_What?_

"That doesn't make any sense! It's one or the other, Ushiwaka. You either stand by it or not!" 

"No!" 

"Words… have meanings beyond their definitions. You can say something and mean the opposite."

Tooru scowled. "Yeah, duh. Of course they do! It's obvious." 

"It's not! Not to me. The second meaning escapes me. I don't know…" He paused again, grinding his teeth in frustration. "I don't know what you hear when I talk to you, but it's not what I'm trying to say." 

"Really… So when you told me that my choice of high school-"

"You said not to speak about volleyball."

"Well, then I'm breaking my own rules, Ushiwaka! When you told me that me going to Aoba Johsai was a mistake, that my team was weak, and that my choice would mean that I'd _never_ go to nationals, you were _not_ insulting me?" 

Ushiwaka grimaced, but his eyes stayed steady on Tooru's face and his voice was determined when he said "It was supposed to be a compliment." 

"A _compliment_!" Tooru couldn't help but laugh, it sounded hysterical even to his own ears. "How?" 

"I told you you were a good player, above the caliber of the team you're playing for. And that, if you'd made a different choice, you could play for the strongest team, on the national level. Something that you deserve to do." 

"That's not what it sounded like at all!" Tooru spluttered. He could feel himself going red. Why was Ushiwaka so _embarrassing?_

"I didn't know that then," Ushiwaka replied. "I know now that those words were too harsh. But it doesn't change what I think." 

Tooru huffed. Well, at least some things stayed the same. "It doesn't matter what you think. I _will_ beat you and go to nationals." 

Ushiwaka looked at him, pensively. "Let's go back to not speaking about volleyball." He said. "I don't know a way to reply to that that is both truthful and will not hurt you." 

God, he was so irritating!

"Well, at least your laughable confidence is still the same." He chuckled. "But it's weird when you try to protect my feelings. Don't do it anymore" 

"How is it weird? We are on a date. It is normal for me to want you to have a good time."

_Oh no, not this again_. Tooru whirled around, hoping Ushiwaka wouldn't see how red in the face he had become. Somehow, that insufferable sincerity was even worse when he was actually saying nice things!

"Yeah? W-well," He stuttered. "You… you can't do that by not speaking at all!"

"I agree. I was getting frustrated. I would have spoken up very soon myself." 

"Good! It was weird." He'd rather get angry than have Ushiwaka try and look out for him by censoring himself. 

Except… 

"You didn't have any trouble on White Day." He mumbled, eyes on the bag over Ushiwaka's shoulder where he knew the chocolate Tooru had bought him was. 

"What?"

"White day. You didn't have trouble confessing to me! If you'd said something stupid, I wouldn't be here." 

"Ah… that." 

Tooru lifted his eyes from the bag to Ushiwaka's face and froze. 

His expression had softened. His eyes half-closed and far away, the ghost of a smile on his lips. When he looked at Tooru, it was like he was seeing something else, something magnificent. 

_How? How do you look at me like this?_

"I thought a long time about what I was going to say." Ushiwaka took a step forward, towards him. "Months on end. I wrote my confession out 7 times, I'm sure you'd find the first drafts laughable." His smile grew. "But a confession is supposed to put feelings into words, and I wanted to do my feelings for you justice."

_Oh_

Tooru flattened his hand over his chest, willing his heart to beat slower. The blood was rushing in his ears, and he knew he was blushing so hard that even a guy as dense as Ushiwaka would be able to see it. 

He'd been questioning himself again and again why he had agreed to come. He didn't like Ushiwaka, and it'd be immensely satisfying to crush his little heart. And yet… 

Maybe it was this. The fact that the insurmountable obstacle on the court was so different towards him now. Caring, gentle, all the things Ushiwaka never was to him. He wanted to understand and, maybe, if he could admit that to himself, see it again. If only to finally be in power for once. 

"Listen…" he started, lifting his head just the slightest bit to look Ushiwaka straight in the eye. "I'll… try not to misinterpret what you say." 

Ushiwaka's eyes grew. It was the same look he'd worn that morning on the platform. Pure, unfiltered shock. 

"I'll probably still get angry at you. But I'll give you a chance to explain. Or wait a bit, to figure out how words work." 

It was a peace offering. A rope he'd thrown to the other side of the cliff separating the two of them. Perhaps, one day, they could build a bridge from the foundations. But today, this would have to be enough. 

Ushiwaka nodded. "Thank you." He said earnestly. And Tooru's heart skipped a beat. 

The volume of music suddenly increased and caught their attention.

Right, they were at a festival after all. 

"Do you want to watch the parade?" Ushiwaka asked, holding out his hand for Tooru to hold. 

"Yeah, sure." And before he could think better of it, Tooru took his hand and started walking. 

"I have one last request, Ushiwaka-chan!" He said, looking back at him. 

"Stop talking about _me,_ and start talking about yourself. Unless your brain really is just an empty volleyball filled with air, there must be other things about you." 

If he wanted to understand… _this._ Then he first needed to understand Ushiwaka himself. 

Ushiwaka stopped walking, and Tooru was abruptly tugged back by his arm. 

"If I fulfill that, I have a favor to ask as well." He said.

Well… that was only fair. Tooru shrugged. "As long as it's reasonable, Ushiwaka-chan."

Ushiwaka frowned. "That."

_… Huh?_

"What?"

"That, stop calling me that." 

Tooru paused. "You mean Ushiwaka-chan?" 

Ushiwaka nodded. "Yes, please use my actual name."

"Oh," Tooru rubbed the back of his head. That was within reason, right? Shouldn't be that hard. 

It shouldn't be… 

"Fine then, Ushijima. Now let's go." He turned around and pulled Ushiw- _Ushijima_ along. 

The syllables felt weird in his mouth. Wrong. But not for a second was he considering calling Ushijima by his first name. Nope. Too far.

They joined the crowd, easily towering over most of them so they got a clear view. A girl in front of them looked around and squeaked, swiftly getting out of the way. 

"Ah, your scary face drew her away." Tooru laughed, bumping Ushijima's shoulder. The affronted expression on his face only made things funnier. 

But he remembered their conversation. So maybe some reassurance was necessary. 

"Hey," he said softly, squeezing the hand in his. "I'm only joking." 

"I know that," Ushiwaka replied petulantly. Tooru almost started laughing again. 

"Alright, Alright." He snickered. But a small voice at the back of his head worried about exactly what that girl had seen

What did they look like to all these other people? Friends? Classmates? 

_They were still holding hands._

And they were standing close by each other, pushed together by the crowd amongst them. Hips touching, elbows brushing past each other, fingers intertwined. Every place of contact seemed to burn. 

_What am I doing?_

If Ushijima noticed how Tooru had stiffened, he didn't say anything. Which means he didn't notice. Tooru refused to look at him any further, focusing on the dancers and musicians passing them in a flurry of bright costumes and loud melodies. 

As soon at the tail end of the Parade passed them, he jerked away from Ushijima and any skin-to-skin contact between them, wrestled his way back through the spectators, until he could finally breathe again. 

Ushijima followed him, he broke out of the crowd, looking confused. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing." He shook his head to clear his thoughts and tried his best to look casual and unbothered. "Come on, I want drinks! And didn't you say you were gonna talk about yourself, Ushijima? I haven't heard a single thing yet!" 

And dutifully, Ushijima talked, as Tooru sipped on his Ramune.

Ushijima, who apparently had a stash of classic fantasy manga in the bookcase in his room that he's reread over 10 times. Who named the little succulents in his window frame after his favorite athletes. Who played basketball in the summer because his younger cousin was gonna join a team in middle school and they practiced together whenever he visited. 

Slowly, the scale of power tipped again, in Tooru's advantage. 

It was refreshing, to look at Ushijima and not see the volleyball prodigy, the unclimbable mountain, the one forever blocking the path to his dreams. 

And yet he couldn't shake the notion completely. The Ushijima on and off the court weren't different people, they were two sides of the same person. The Ushijima who talked about his little cousin with a soft smile would crush his dreams on the court again without a second thought. 

_"Let's go back to not speaking about volleyball. I don't know a way to reply to that which is both truthful and will not hurt you."_

What was this whole day, but a cover? A blanket draped unceremoniously over all the anger, humiliation, and hostility. 

Apparently, Ushijima didn't realize that. Because he was too full of brick-headed confidence to see it. 

And now that Tooru's plan of annoying him until they both agreed that this whole thing was stupid had fizzled out, there were only two options left. 

Accept, or crush his heart from where he'd placed it in Tooru's palms two days ago. 

"It's getting late," Ushijima said. 

Tooru looked up. Watched the sun, hanging just barely above the trees on the horizon. Normally, he'd want to stay well into the night. But this was not "normally" and he'd promised his mother he'd be back early. 

"It is. We should get back to the train station." 

Ushijima nodded stiffly, but his expression was sullen.

_What?_ Tooru wanted to say. _Did you think this was gonna last forever?_

They spent the ride back in silence, Tooru looking out the window as the landscape flashed by. It was like they could both feel the ticking clock signaling that their time had run out. 

They stepped out on the platform, back to where Ushijima had been waiting for Tooru that morning. 

They walked side by side, a silent understanding between them that whatever was about to happen couldn't happen with other people around. 

The countdown continued, their steps on the stairs like the hands of a clock, rhythmically and relentlessly moving towards the end. 

They halted on a sidewalk in an empty street, the sun sinking slowly below the buildings. Tooru looked at Ushijima, against the backdrop of the sunset and the city. 

"I enjoyed myself today." He said

"So did I." Tooru admitted, because there was no point in lying. 

"So, does this mean you accept my confession?" 

The clock landed on zero. Time to choose

There was only ever one option. 

"No." 

Ushijima's face fell, and he curled in on himself. Hands cramped around the bag of his shoulder, eyes flashing in pain. 

_And so, the mountain crumbles_

"Why?"

Something in Tooru wanted to throw it back in his face. Insult him and make it _hurt._

He thought of hours spent staying behind in the gym, practicing his serves over and over and over, just to be _enough_ for once. And it never was. Thought of the taste of defeat in his mouth over and over and over, the shadow of Ushijima standing over him, always so sure and unyielding and _unbearable._

He thought of red suns disappearing behind the horizon, pink and purple clouds, green eyes with small golden flecks. 

He looked at Ushijima and thought,

_For years and years, I've tried to defeat you. To hurt you the way you hurt me. And now you're standing in front of me, vulnerable, giving me the perfect chance._

_So why can't I bring myself to do it?_

And he gave him the only answer he could. 

"I don't know."

And then he stepped forward and grabbed his phone. "Give me your contact information." 

Ushijima looked at him in bewilderment as he wordlessly handed him his phone and Tooru started typing. 

“There you go! See you on the court... Wakatoshi.” And before he could see Ushijima’s reaction, he turned around and ran away. 

Later, waiting at the bus stop to go home, he stared at his phone at this phone

He’d finally gotten an opportunity for victory, for revenge. And he’d dropped it. 

But when he looked down at the new contact on his phone, it didn't feel like defeat.

He didn't know what it was. 

Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I PROMISE that they'll get their shit together and date eventually. This was supposed to be a fluffy and funny fic, but apparently the writer in me likes slow burn a little too much. They just have a lot of issues to work through, it'll get better. 
> 
> You can follow me [here](https://twitter.com/lgbtloonaverse) on twitter! My DMs are open and we can cry abt ushioi together.


	3. 100611 & 100613

Tooru knew it as soon as the ball left his fingertips. Before it even connected with their ace's palm, before it hit the ground with a resounding blow, missing the opponent libero's finger by just a few centimeters, before the whistle blew, announcing the end of the game. As soon as he sent the toss he was undeniably and unquestionably certain. They had won. 

And they had. 

The sound of the referee's whistle confirmed it, ringing through the gym and in Tooru's ears. The scorekeeper flipped the paper to cement their victory. 

And there it was

_Aoba johsai: 25_ | _Wakutani South: 22_

Immediately he got attacked from all sides by his teammates and upperclassmen. His captain got a hold of him and put him in a headlock, messing up his hair with his other hand. From the corner of his eyes, he could see their ace being subjected to the same fate by the other third years. 

Hajime dragged him out of the maze of limbs and pulled him into a hug, burying his face in his shoulder. Tooru swung his arms around his best friend's shaking shoulders and felt his already sweaty shirt get wet from the tears. 

They'd done it. They won the semifinals. They were going to the finals. 

And then he spotted a flash of purple, and he stiffened.

They were going to the finals. And that meant… 

They were going up against Shiratorizawa. 

And in the stands, still in his uniform from when he'd won his own semifinals match minutes earlier, was Ushijima Wakatoshi, staring down at him. 

His fingers curled up into fists, clutching the fabric of Hajime's shirt. He knew Hajime could feel it, and when he lifted his head from the crook of Tooru's shoulder and froze, he knew he'd seen him too. 

Hajime pulled back, and dragged him away by the arm, shooting him a look with a wordless message. 

_Don't think about him right now_.

He didn't think about him when he pulled off his sweaty uniform, trading it for normal clothes and his school jacket, and tried to put his hair back into something resembling the orderly style it had been that morning. 

He didn't think about him when they boarded the bus back home, still high on their win, excitedly chattering except for the few who were too exhausted to get any words out of their mouths.

He didn't even think about him when their captain stood in front of their team with tears of pride shining in his eyes and promised them that they'd win again tomorrow.

"Let's go to nationals!" He shouted with the rest of them as they put their hand together and raised them upwards to the evening sky. And he didn't think about him. 

He didn't think about him until it was just him and Hajime, walking home side by side. Illuminated only by the streetlights, Tooru watching their shadows move and shift as they walked past the light of each lamppost. Hajime looked at him, and before the words even left his mouth, Tooru knew what he was gonna ask about. 

"How are things between you two anyway?" 

Tooru scowled, his fingers curled around the phone in his pocket and he pulled it out, turned it on, and showed Hajime the screen, his messaging history with Ushijima Wakatoshi clear on display. 

"We've been texting." He mumbled. 

Hajime skeptically raised a single eyebrow. "And how is that working out?" 

"It's fine." It had been fine. As long as they didn't talk about volleyball or their schools, it was fine. He had stared at the new contact every day for 3 weeks until Wakatoshi texted him first, and he hadn't been able to wait long enough to look unbothered and aloof when he replied. But hopefully, Wakatoshi's complete lack of social awareness meant that he hadn't picked up on that. And now they texted regularly and Tooru called him Wakatoahi in his head and everything was _fine._ Except for the part where his lungs turned into cement every time he got a notification and his stomach wouldn't stop churning whenever he read the messages. But other than that everything was fucking fine. 

"We're…" He trailed off. 

"You're… what?" 

They'd been civil, for a lack of better terms. Tooru thought of the last text he'd gotten, well over 2 weeks ago now. Of the picture of a light brown shikoku with his tongue hanging out that he'd gotten a month ago and quietly saved to his phone. Of the 3 volumes of _Rōdosu-tō Senki: Haiiro no Majo_ laying in his room after he'd bought them on Wakatoshi's recommendation.

Were they friends? Acquaintances? Friendly rivals? 

None of those things felt right. 

"...I don't know."

Hajime scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You never know! Why are you going on a date with him? You don't know. Why did you buy him chocolate? You don't know. Why did you give him your number? You don't know. Why are you _texting_ him even if you hate him? You. Don't. know." 

Tooru elbowed him in the side. Hard. "Shut up, Iwa-chan! It's none of your business anyway." He seethed.

In response, Hajime kicked him in the back of his knees. 

"Fuck off, crappykawa! You're being a moron so it _is_ my business!" 

"What, mothering me again, Iwa-chan?" 

"Well sue me for being worried!" Hajime spat. "You get this fucking _look_ on your face every time you talk or think about him!" 

"I do _not!_ " Tooru squawked, grabbing Hajime by his jacket and pulling him close to yell in his face. "You take that back!"

"I have eyes, Shittykawa!" Hajime wrestled himself out of Tooru's grip and slapped his hands away. "What is it, do you actually _like_ him now?"

"How dare you ask that!?"

"Don't doge it, it's a simple fucking question, _Tooru_. Do you like him, yes or no!" 

"I-" 

"And if you say "I don't know" again I'll punch you in the face!" 

"It's not that easy."

"Sure is!"

"No it's _not!_ What do you want me to say? I _hate_ him! I always have!" 

Hajime stilled and took a step back. He cocked his head and stared in that annoyingly knowing way only a person who has known you for your entire life could. 

"Then, why?" 

Good question, why?

Tooru had an answer, but no idea what it meant. 

"Because I don't want us to go back to how we were." 

He swallowed the lump in his throat. 

"I hate him but… I actually enjoyed myself that day, you know? And it was the first date I got to go on with a guy. Is it so bad that I liked it?" 

"You idiot. I told you already, didn't I? It's fine if you like him." 

"But I don't!"

"It kinda sounds like you do." 

" _But I can't!_ " He cried out. "He doesn't respect me." 

Hajime squinted at him. "What the hell do you mean? Wasn't his whole shtick that he respected you way more than anyone else on our team?" 

"Yeah, as a player. But he doesn't respect my decision. My team. He really thinks I'd be better off at fucking _Shiratorizawa_ instead of here." 

_I don't know a way to reply to that which is both truthful and will not hurt you._ He'd said. What a joke. 

"As long as we don't mention volleyball we get along just fine. Even if he's brick-headed and doesn't understand sarcasm and- I'm getting off track." He was sure that his face was red, but he hoped Hajime wouldn't be able to see it in the dark. "The point is, I can't do that. I can't just ignore it. Volleyball is my _life!_ This team is important to me. I can't just…" 

_Date him._

He still couldn't say it out loud. 

Hajime seemed to understand anyway.

"So… if it weren't for that…. Would you?"

"I don't know."

"I swear to gods shittykawa say I don't know one more time-"

"MAYBE! Okay? Maybe I could." Tooru heaved, pressing his hand to his chest. He hadn't even realized how worked up he'd gotten. 

"But it's of no use. He's so thick-headed and confident in himself when it comes to volleyball. He really thinks there's no way to defeat him." He said bitterly

But surprisingly, a menacing smirk spread itself on Hajime's face. "Well, that's an easy problem to solve"

"Is it?"

"Of course" His eyes were burning with red hot fire in the light of the street lamps "We just have to win tomorrow." 

.

.

.

The sound of the ball hitting the ground felt like a death sentence. 

Volleyball, for all its elaborate strategies and complicated tactics, was actually quite simple at its core. The team that let the ball drop, lost. How you got there didn't matter to the scoreboard. 25 points, with at least a two-point lead. That was all you needed. 

_Aoba Johsai: 24_ | _Shiratorizawa: 26_

"Calm down." A warm hand was placed on his shoulder. Hajime walked past him, effectively dragging him along. "Whatever internal monologue you're narrating to yourself, cut it out." 

Tooru wanted to protest, but their team had already started moving to the other side of the court. 

As they crossed paths with the other team, he locked eyes with Wakatoshi. Sweat clung to his skin and had gotten his bangs stuck on his forehead, but his breath was even and there was no sign of exhaustion in his step. He met Tooru's stare head-on, his eyes following him as they passed each other. Maybe if he looked a little closer he'd be able to see that bit of gold again-

Tooru looked away first. 

_Lost again_

"Okay! Listen. Shiratorizawa an incredibly strong offense. It's even worse than last year, now that they have both Yamashita and Ushijima." 

Yamashita? Oh, right, their #4. The 3rd year ace of the team. Tooru felt kind of embarrassed that he forgot his name. 

"But if you paid attention." Their libero intersected. "You'll have noticed that they're barky ever the first touch. Someone else always fills in for them. 

"So aim your attacks at them." The captain continued. "Either someone else will have to move and cover for them, which will make for more sloppy receives. Or they will have to do it themselves, hindering them in their attacks. Does everyone get that?"

"Yes, sir!" They said in unison. the captain gave them all a brilliant smile

"Then we're ready. Let's go win this thing!" 

But as they walked onto the court, Hajime grabbed Tooru by his sleeve. 

"Just don't think about him." He said.

"Kinda hard when I literally have to for the team's sake, Iwa-chan."

Hajime's brows furrowed. "You know what I mean, Shittykawa." 

He sighed. "Yeah, I do." 

"If you let him distract you, I'll punch you in the face."

"I said I got it! Why are you still threatening me?!" 

"Alright, guys!" Their captain called out. "Let's do this! Let's win this set and go to nationals!"

He walked past Tooru and gave him a friendly smile.

"You're doing great. I know you've got history with that first-year monster,"

_If only you knew._

But we all want to beat them. There are 5 other people on the court who are on your side. They're strong. But little by little," He glanced to the other side of the net, eyes filled with a fire Tooru knew was mirrored in his own. 

"We'll get used to it." 

The whistle blew. And the second set started. 

_Just hold on. Don't let the ball drop. That's all there is to it. No matter how hard that hit is, if that ball is barreling towards you with a speed that could break your bones. If it hasn't hit the ground yet, you can still save the point._

The game progressed slowly, long torturing rallies that chipped away at his stamina and had him heaving, hunched over with his hands on his knees in the few precious seconds before a new rally started. 

And every time Wakatoshi jumped, perfect form and terrifying power, he had to remind himself. 

_Don't think about him._

Like one date was gonna cost him his victory.

The points gradually built up. Shirstorizawa still mostly had control of the momentum. But they were keeping up. 

Tooru glanced at the scoreboard after they once again managed to steal a point. 

_Aoba Johsai: 15_ | _Shiratorizawa: 15_

For the first time in the whole game, they were even.

This was it, their chance. 

The whistle blew again. And one of Tooru's senpai walked up to serve. Tooru took his position, ready for a counter-attack if Shiratorizawa got the ball up. 

The ball flew over the net, aimed right between two of their players on the backline. Their libero got it up, but the moment of hesitation had cost him his accuracy. The ball bounced off his arms in the wrong direction, their setter would never make it. "Cover!" He called out. One of their blockers, #3, positioned himself under the ball.

With emergency sets like these, it was usual to set the ball to the ace. He was the one who had to come through in tight or crappy situations and save an otherwise lost point. 

But that wasn't where it would go now. 

_Don't let him distract you._

Wakatoshi set in his running approach, eyes set on the ball. 

Tooru jumped up in a block with his captain, their receivers getting into position behind them. 

But the ball ricocheted off his captain's fingers, upwards and away. When Tooru landed and turned around, he saw the final moment where their libero's outstretched fingers missed the ball by a hair's width. 

The referee's whistle blew, the line judge pointed his flag down. A block-out. Point to Shiratorizawa. 

_Goddammit_. 

"Sheez" His captain sighed, shaking his hand and blowing on his reddened fingers. "He's got so much power, and he's just a first year! It's insane" 

And now that power was up to serve. 

_Don't think about him._

"Wakatoshi-kun!~ Good luck!" A short girl with brown hair tied into a ponytail and decorated with cute hairpins cheered from the sidelines, waving her special fan in the air. And for a second, Tooru wanted nothing more than to climb onto the stands and claw her eyes out. 

Wakatoshi served, with all the devastating power of a hurricane. 

Maybe too much. 

"Out!" 

Tooru almost laughed at the disappointed faces on Shiratorizawa's side of the court. 

He shot a silent apology to the girl with the cute hairpins. He knew how fangirls worked. He had his own fan club.

Really, her only mistake was having bad taste.

_Don't let him distract you._

And now it was his turn. 

He twirled the ball in his hands and tossed it in the air. He ran forward, jumped up, only having eyes for the ball as his palm connected with it.

Every motion drilled into his muscle memory by being repeated a hundred times and then a hundred times more every evening for hours on end. 

It hit the ground before any of Shiratorizawa's receivers could even get close 

The cheers of his teammates

"Again!" Hajime grinned, as the ball was pressed back into Tooru's hands. He nodded.

_Again._

This time, Shiratorizawa's captain missed the ball by mere centimeters as it touched the ground. 

"A second no-touch ace!" His teammates cheered. Tooru's hair was all messed up already for the hugs and headlocks. But he couldn't care less.

One more. 

He returned to the end line and traced his steps. And now, just for the game, he let himself think about him. 

On the opposite side of the net, in the back. 

_I won't let you take this from me._

He walked back and tossed the ball up in the air. And as his feet left the ground, everything faded. There was nothing on his mind but the ball, the net, and Wakatoshi on the other side of the court. 

_Don't you dare look down on me!_

And he hit the ball with all his might. With every drop of power, he could find in his body, aiming it directly at Wakatoshi. 

It was way too fast for any of his teammates to dig it in his place. And they both knew it. Wakatoshi positioned himself for the receive and-

It reached him right. as Tooru's feet hit the ground. Barreled into his arms and nearly send him falling back as it forced his frem to crumble and the ball was sent flying into the metal railing of the stands. 

first came the silence, then came the cheers. 

_Aoba Johsai: 19_ | _Shiratorizawa: 16_

With a three-point lead, his enemy nearly physically on his knees, and a crowd chanting his name, Tooru closed his eyes and reveled in the

Shiratorizawa called for a time-out, trying to force the momentum to a halt with time alone. It wouldn't work, Tooru wouldn't get distracted. He was sure of himself. 

And then he was stunned by the expression on Wakatoshi's face. 

The same one he'd had on their day at the festival, when he thought Tooru wasn't looking back. 

Raw, unfiltered awe.

Yesterday flashed through his mind

_Respect._ He'd said. _Maybe I could._ He'd said. 

_Stop. Not now. Don't think about him._

A whistle blew. Tooru's eyes flew to the edge of the court on Sshiratorizawa's side. 

There, holding a sign with the number 7 on it, and a #11 on his jersey, stood a tall willowy redhead. His hair was bright red and styled in tall gelled up spiked. His eyes were too big for the rest of his face, and his smile was stretched unnaturally wide. It was like he was a creature from a horror movie.

"Shiratorizawa is swapping someone out?" 

"Seems like it."

Their #7, a second-year middle blocker, switched places with the redhead. The wheels in Tooru's mind started turning. He'd been in the front, so this guy wasn't a pinch server.

No, Shiratorizawa was changing their blocker lineup, probably for the rest of the set. That had to mean a change in tactic. But what kind? 

Tooru had no idea who he was. He had to be another first year. Or maybe those weird eyes just made him look younger. But when he looked to his left, to his captain, he could see the same puzzled calculating expression he was sure was on his own face. 

A first-year, then. The only one in the lineup besides Wakatoshi. 

This should be interesting. 

"You good?" Their ace whispered to him. "Don't overthink it." 

"I'm fine, senpai." He looked their ace in the eyes and smiled. "They're changing it up, which means they're _scared_ of us."

"Ooooooh, scared, you say?" A shrill voice interrupted them. His head swiveled back to the net, that freakish redhead #11 grinning down at him. He was leaning back uncomfortably far, tilting his head. Wide bug eyes staring directly at Tooru. His pupils were red too, were those contacts? 

"My my, you're so confident." He continued. A Cheshire cat-like grin split his face in two. "I can't wait to break your heart!" 

_What the fuck?_

He wished he'd had some kind of witty comeback, but in his bewilderment, all he could bring out was a confused "What?"

"Break your heart! Clean down the middle in two pieces. Crack!" He sing-songed, swinging to an imaginary melody in his head. 

"Listen here you-"

"Oikawa, concentrate! Don't let him get to you." His captain called out. Tooru bit his tongue to stop the words from spilling out. The referee was eyeing him warily, and he bowed his head in apology. 

On the other side of the net, the weird first year hummed his creepy melody like nothing was wrong. 

_We'll see whose heart gets broken here_ , he thought as he walked back to serve, eyes straying to find Wakatoshi on the back line, eyes empty save for that unstoppable single-track determination to win. _I'm going to crush you._

The whistle blew, and he was captured in serenity once again. There was nothing but him, the ball, and the spot on the ground where he wanted it to hit. 

He threw up the serve toss, jumped, and with all his might flung his arm forward and hit the ball over the net.

Right into the waiting arms of Shiratorizwa's libero 

_Dammit!_

He ran forward to his position, ready for a counterattack. 

The ball went to their ace, their blocker's jumped up

"One touch!" His captain screamed. Another upperclassman ran back and got the ball up, high. 

_A perfect spot. With time left over. An opportunity for a synchronized attack._

This was it. The momentum was finally on their side and he wasn't about to waste it. From the corner of his eyes, he could see two of his senpais breaking into a run. Shiratorizawa's #3 blocker was fixated on their ace, but even against a skilled two-person block, Tooru knew he could break through. But going through the center would be a bold move and would show the blockers he wasn't scared of them. 

But in the end, there was only one option. The third spiker running up for the toss, to his right.

He set for Hajime. Like he'd done a thousand times before and how he'd do a thousand times again. There was no one he knew better and who he could be more certain of at that moment. It was the perfect toss at the perfect moment, with two experienced third-year hitters as decoys to lead their blockers away. 

He was sure-

_Wham!_

The ball slammed down on his side, just mere centimeters from his feet. 

Everything froze for a second. Tooru stood nailed to the ground, the ball hovered still in the air, Hajime's face was petrified in shock. And when Tooru looked at the net, he was met with shimmering dark red eyes.

And then the world came rushing back in. The thud as Hajime landed back on the ground, the high-pitched whistle of the referee, and through it all the booming chant of Shiratorizawa's cheering section.

"Nice kill Tendou! Push it push it Tendou! One more point!" 

The guy himself turned with his back to the net, facing the cheering squad.

"Miracle boy! Sa! To! Ri!" He cheered, dramatically posing with each new syllable.

_Tendou Satori, huh?_

Tooru gritted his teeth. 

_This is the team you wanted me to be on?_

_No. Stop._

_Don't think about him don't look at him don't THINK about him._

He bit his tongue so hard he could taste blood and moved with the rotation. 

This didn't have to change anything. 

Except it happened again.

And again.

And again. 

"Shiratorizawa!" _Dun dun. Dun dun._ "Shiratorizawa!" _Dun dun. Dun dun._

"Oh no, are you _scared_ , Setter-san? You keep using the sides because the middle is risky!" Tendou taunted. "Guess you're not all that special after all. And after I heard so much about you! What a disappointment." 

Who did he hear that from?

Could it be...

_Don't let him distract you._

"You piss me off" He growled at Tendou.

"Aw, thank you!"

"Ugh!" He turned around and waltzed back to his spot. 

He'd show him. 

The serve came up, right towards Yamashita. And as expected, a second-year covered for him. 

A sloppy receive. It was coming back. 

"Chance ball!" he called out. 

Their libero got it up, a good spot. Tooru jumped, it looked like he was going for the left once again. 

Except, of course, he wasn't. 

_Through the middle? Fine, then._

Right at the height of his jump, he changed his form and hit the ball towards the net. 

Only for the ball to slam down on his side.

_What?_

A piercing laugh reached his ears.

"There is nothing easier to block than a setter dump when you're desperate." 

Before Tooru could bite anything back, his coach called for a time-out. 

Hajime punched him in the arm. "You're letting him get to you, Shittykawa. Stop panicking!" 

"It's not just your fault." His captain interrupted him. "That guy is weird. He seems to jump purely on feeling, with no calculation or strategy. Which means that all you need to do," He pointed at Tooru. "Is confuse him, even for just a millisecond. If he doubts himself, it's over. Can you do that?" 

Tooru nodded. "Yes sir!"

"Good!" His captain slapped him on the shoulder and nodded to their coaches that they were ready. 

"Hey, Oikawa." 

Hm?"

"We're counting on you." 

Tooru blinked in shock. "I-" a smile crept on his face. "I know." 

"Good." 

And the game started again. Both him and Tendou in the front row. 

Tooru narrowed his eyes as he waited for the ball to come his way. 

Normal techniques to mislead blockers wouldn't work on him. His instincts were miraculously so good that he could jump on intuition alone. 

But guessing, no matter how accurate, was and would always be imperfect. 

The ball shot past Tendou before he even had the time to lift his arms and attempt to block it. His drooping eyes widened, and his head swiveled around to follow the ball in bafflement. 

But when he focused back on Tooru, that eerie, overconfident grin returned. 

"Oh, congratulations. You got me." He snickered "You're too late, though." And he gestured theatrically to the scoreboard. 

_Aoba Johsai: 23_ | _Shiratorizawa: 24_

Match point. Those stupid guess blocks had obliterated their lead. 

But the ball hadn't dropped yet.

They hadn't lost yet. 

_Not yet._

The ball went up. 

A one-touch, a receive, a block follow, saved by just the libero's finger-tips. 

It refused to touch the ground. 

_Not yet_.

The rally went on and on 

_Please, let me stay here longer._

But it couldn't go on forever. 

Tooru had spent the entire match trying not to think of him too much. But of course, with a presence like that, he was impossible to forget. 

The ball went through the blockers' arms like a knife through butter. 

The last point.

25.

Done. 

It really did feel like a death sentence. 

_Lost._

_Again._

And as he went through the entire post-game ritual in a daze. Helped his fallen captain up, shook hands with the players on the opposite side, bowed to their supporters to thank them, He could feel a pair of eyes on him. He knew who they belonged to. 

He didn't look back once.

.

.

.

Later, he excused himself from the changing rooms to get some water, when he came across _him_.

"Oikawa."

The last person he wanted to see. 

"What do you want, Ushijima?" He snarled. 

The sudden use of his last name didn't seem to phase him. He was in a school uniform, sweat scrubbed from his skin but hair still damp from the shower.

Tooru hated the fact that he looked good, somehow 

"I hope this has made you see my point clearer." 

And then he ruined everything by opening his mouth. Typical. 

"What decision?" It was a warning. Tooru already had a dreadful sense of what it was, but he was willing to give Wakatoshi a chance to back out. 

Even someone as socially inept as he had to know this was a bad idea. 

"Your choice. You could have won today, could have gone to nationals. If you had chosen the right path.” 

Or not. 

"We've been over this." He said. 

"We haven't. I was trying to please you, then. So I didn't say anything But I hoped you'd see the error of your ways." 

"The error of my- you really thought I was gonna _crawl back to you_? Say "oh no I was wrong I'd be so much better off on your team"? Just how _stupid_ are you?" 

Wakatoshi flinched lightly, but his face stayed the same. "I see your worthless pride is still controlling you."

_Oh._

Oh, that actually _hurt._

_Since when has he had that power over me?_

"Say you don't mean it." He choked out. "I told you I'd give you time to rethink your words -"

"I've thought about these plenty."

"Have you?" Tooru shrieked. "Because any normal fucking human being would realize that this is _not_ something you should say to someone! Ever!" He could already feel the pressure of tears behind his eyes, and he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to get away before they fell this time. 

"How did you ever think this would work? Are you naïve or do you just not respect me at all? You really thought your _feelings_ for me could ever change anything." He spat out the word feelings like it was a curse. 

And that seemed to actually hit. Wakatoshi stumbled back like he had physically been pushed, and his masker of indifference finally broke.

It only egged Tooru on more. Not like he could stop himself anyway. 

"Listen here, Ushijima. I. Hate. You. I hate everything about you!" His voice cracked, and the first tear fell. He sniffed and angrily wiped it away with his sleeve. "And I can't believe I was so stupid to let myself believe it could ever be any different. You're not worth this." 

Wakatoshi looked crestfallen. "Oikawa, listen-"

"No! I'm done listening to you. Goodbye." He turned around to leave but was stopped by a hand around his wrist. 

"Let me go." He tried to tug himself loose. 

"Please," Wakatoshi begged. I don't know what to apologize for."

"Then you're even stupider than I thought. Let me go!" 

And he did. 

Tooru jumped away from him like he was stung, clutching his hand to his chest. And he ran away. Wakatoshi didn't try to chase after him. 

"Oikawa?" Hajime asked worriedly when Tor finally returned. It was obvious that he was crying. "Are you okay?" 

"I don't want to talk about it." His hands were still shaking as he tried to wipe away the tears. "Please, let's just go home." 

.

.

.

He wished that were the end of it. But hours later, laying in his bed, his tears dried but eyes still red-rimmed, it plagued him. 

How could he not _understand_? 

He looked at his phone, finger hovering over the "delete contact" button. 

One last stupid thing. One last chance. 

**[You have shared an address with Ushijima Wakatoshi]**

**You:** _Be there at 3 PM on Sunday. Wear sports clothes_

There. Too late to back out now. 

_This is the last time._ He told himself. 

.

.

.

As he walked towards their meeting spot, a small part of Tooru hoped Wakatoshi wouldn't show up so he could go back home and declare the whole thing over. Let the weird small thing in his chest dry out and die before it got the chance to grow. It'd be better, in the end

But then he rounded the corner and was met with the sight of Wakatoshi, dressed in running clothes, leaning against the wall.

"You're here." He said.

"You asked me to," Wakatoshi replied matter-of-factly 

"I did."

_It was probably the stupidest idea I've ever had._

But it was far too late to back down now. 

"What is this place? Wakatoshi asked. 

Tooru snorted "It's a community sports center, obviously. Read the sign, dummy." And he grabbed Wakatoshi by the sleeve of his jacket to drag him inside. 

Inside, a man was reading a newspaper at the register.

"Good afternoon, Saito-san!" Tooru greeted him cheerily. 

The elderly man behind the counter brightened up."Hello there Oikawa-kun! Brought a friend with you this time?"

"Yup! If you don't mind.”

"Of course not, same place as always?"

"We'll be out in an hour, I promise!” Tooru waved at the man as he dragged Wakatoshi along 

He led them down the hall towards the hall, into a room with lines on the floor, in different colors to mark the court measures of various sports. The kind of marks they usually had in elementary school gyms, versatile for many different kinds of exercise. But right in the middle of where the volleyball court would be, there was a net. 

"Welcome! It's probably not what you're used to, compared to your super-fancy school gyms. But it's good. Especially if you're on your own like I usually am." 

Tooru dropped his bag in the corner like he always did, and immediate, and kept on chattering to Wakatoshi. 

"I actually come here quite often to train outside of school hours. Usually on Mondays since we have no practice that day-"

"Enough. Why did you bring me here?"

"You want me to set for you, no? Well," Tooru gestured at the net. "Here's your chance!" 

He walked ahead, pulled out a cart filled with volleyballs from the storage room, and looked back to find Wakatoshi standing nailed to the ground where he'd left him. Frozen, face filled with a multitude of contrasting emotions. Confusion in the raise of his eyebrows and his parted lips, frustration in the tight line of his jaw and the small crinkle at the top of his nose, a flicker of hope in his eyes. 

"What are you waiting for, Waka-chan? We don't have all day." He playfully spun the ball around in his hands, the perfect picture of confidence and control.

Wakatoshi blinked rapidly at the new nickname, looking around the room in wonder "You mean it?" 

"I wouldn't do any of this if I didn't want to," Tooru replied, too honest. 

Maybe he could be honest for once. 

"I'm not going to Shiratorizawa. I'll never be on your team. But," he held the ball out. It was another peace offering, the first wooden beam to form the basis of the bridge over the cliff hanging between them. If you were brave enough, not too scared of falling, you could try to walk it. "I can set to you here. On my terms. Whenever you want." 

"Whenever I want?" 

"That's what I said, didn't I?" He marched forward and pressed the ball into Wakatoshi's hands, but he didn't let go of it. Instead, he leaned into Walatoshi's space, never breaking eye contact. "But don't think I'll do what you're used to. I'm not gonna _serve_ you, got it?" 

Wakatoshi frowned. "That seems contradictory. Your talent has always been to adapt to your spikers' style and bring out their talents." 

"Yes, I bring out the _best_ in my spikers." He still had to look up to look Wakatoshi in the eyes, but for once it didn't feel like he was smaller. "And I don't think _that_ back there was your best." 

Wakatoshi gaped at him, blush high on his cheeks. Tooru stepped away before their closeness would affect him as well. 

_He_ was the one in power now. he wasn't about to let that go. 

"Come on, then! Let's stretch!” 

Tooru was sure he had come over as calm, but his heart pounded as he warmed up. Trying not to think of the other boy going through the same motions with his back turned to him 

_Do I get to have you? Like this, even on the court. Do I get to have the power over you that I want?_

“Okay!” He straightened up and turned around. “You still have the ball, right? send me a pass once you’re ready.” 

"Oikawa." Wakatoshi asked, "Do you need any-"

"I'm good at adapting, don't worry about it." Tooru interrupted him, waving his concerns away. 

He already knew what kind of tosses Wakatoshi preferred. High, slightly far from the net. The optimal location to hit with full power and blast through a block. 

It was simple, really.

And so Wakatsohi got the ball up for him and started his running approach.

_This is what you've been wishing for._

His fingertips made contact with the ball and he sent it on its way in a nice high arch.

_There you go._

Wakatoshi flew, form as perfect as it had been the day of their match, and he slammed the ball down over the net. 

And...

Well…

That was fine.

it would have been a nearly sure point in a real match, it would've taken an amazing blocker to stop. Wakatoshi was skilled, he'd be able to score even with a below-average toss. 

And that toss was nowhere near below average. It was _fine._

_I'm tired of things being just fine._

"Again." 

"Huh?” Wakatoshi looked at him, still dazed from the hit. Tooru tried to be annoyed, and not flattered. 

"I said, again." He reached for the cart and thrust another ball towards him, he caught it out of instinct. 

Tooru was good at adapting to his hitters quickly. And he'd been watching Wakatoshi from the other side of the net for years.

The next one. The next one would be perfect. 

Wakatoshi had an incredible vertical, and an even more impressive hangtime. It was awe-inspiring if you were on his side of the court, and terrifying if you were on the other. 

But there was that small moment, that 0.1 of a second that he seemed to fly still in the air. 

Someone with a degree in physics, or really anyone that properly understood gravity, would be able to tell you that that was impossible. In reality, Wakatoshi's center of gravity was still moving upwards, as he swung his legs backward and prepared to spike. And while your eyes tricked themselves into seeing him fly, ridding himself of gravity's grip, he was already on his way down. 

Someone might tell you that height was everything in volleyball. But they'd be wrong 

It was _timing._

And whether he was being tricked by that split second where Wakatoshi seemed to be unmoving in the air, or because as a left-handed player playing on the left, his hand was just the slightest bit further away than a setter would be used to, Shiratorizawa's setter had been sending Wakatoshi's tosses just a little bit too _late_. 

And Tooru had noticed. 

And he wasn't going to make the same mistake. 

The ball went up, Tooru positioned himself for his toss and Wakatoshi started his running approach. 

Time slowed down. 

Right as the ball touched his fingertips, a thought occurred to him. About what setting was to him, the silent message he sent each of his spikers when he sent the ball their way. 

_I trust you to get this over._

And who could be more reliable than him? 

_I know you'll hit this. I know it'll hit the ground on the other side of the net. Nothing can stop you, the gods know I've tried._

Unrelenting and unchanging certainty.

_I trust you_. 

Wakatoshi jumped. He bent back, like a bow being pulled taught. And then, like an arrow being released, he snapped back forward. With all the power and grace of a weapon of destruction. 

His palm connected to the ball. 

The sound as it hit the ground was like a gunshot. It reverberated through the room, shook something in this space to its very core, Tooru felt it in the deepest parts inside him. 

A pair of feet hit the floor. Wakatoshi slowly straightened up, raised his hand, and stared at it, red blooming under the skin from the hit. 

And then he turned around, his eyes met Tooru's. 

Fire. 

Pure, scorching fire. A hunger that would devour anything in its wake and only get stronger as it did so. 

It was _magnetic_

Tooru took half a step forward. One foot on the beam and one on solid ground. He had a cliff beneath his feet and a decision to make.

_Don't even think about falling._

He ran. Bridged the gap between them in seconds, Wakatoshi met him halfway, stumbling towards him. Tooru caught him, the grip on his arms like oil to the fire, flames flaring up where their skin touched. 

He couldn't breathe. Couldn't hear anything but the erratic rhythm of his own heart. Couldn't see anything but those _eyes_.

He gripped him tight, fisted his other hand in the fabric of Wakatoshi's shirt, and yanked him down to his level to crash their lips together. 

He'd expected his first kiss to go a lot of ways. Sweet and shy, with a nice girl after a few weeks of dating. With a cool older girl who would push him against a wall outside of a club and kiss him until 

In the safety of his own bedroom, he could let himself imagine chapped but gentle lips on his, stroking a sharp jawline and entangling his hands in short hair. 

But this would do. The hunger, the clumsy clashing of tongues and teeth, the uncontrollable desire to be _closer_. 

But it was over much too soon. 

_Again. I want to do that again._

"You can't do this to me," Wakatoshi said. "You're leading me behind you on a leash. You say yes, then no, then yes again. You tell me you hate me then you _kiss_ me. What am I supposed to think?"

"You're supposed to think, " Tooru heaved, a stupid wide smile on his face. "That you're an idiot. And I would've kissed you months ago if you hadn't been."

That clearly wasn't an answer he expected, because Wakatoshi froze and stared at him in bewilderment. 

"What do you mean?"

"That stupid speech! I just had my dreams destroyed, again, and you decide to rub it in my face?"

"I didn't intend to-"

"But you did!" He whined. "And it doesn't matter what you meant by it, you're still wrong! You really think that I would be better off at Shiratorizawa. And you're wrong." 

The look in Wakatoshi's eyes hardened 

_The speckles were still there_

"Give me one reason." Wakatoshi said. Bringing him back to the present. 

"Oh, I'll give you all the reasons you want! You’ve been going to Shiratorizawa for over 3 years, surely you know their playing style by now." Wakatoshi nodded but Tooru continued anyway.

“You're an offense-oriented team that relies on height and strength instead of technique and strategy. Strength of people like you to break through blocks using pure force. It works because you’re so absurdly good, but there’s nothing in that for me. I don’t to be chained tossing to an ace all the time because it’ll go through anyway."

“But it works." 

“It works _now_. What do you think your setter’s gonna do once he gets out of high school, hm? I know _you’ll_ go pro. But what would there become of a highschool setter once he’s no longer helped by overwhelming strength? Any decent setter can send a good spiker like you a reliable toss, it’s nothing to look out for in the leagues.”

He watched Wakatoshi as the words seemed to sink in, the wheels in his head slowly turning. Something finally seemed to click as his eyes widened. 

"Ah.” was all he said. Like he suddenly understood. 

“What, gonna tell me I’m wrong?” 

He sighed. “I wish I could. But a classmate was told in practice a month ago that we didn’t have room for setters who cannot submit their aces.” 

“So you already know it yourself. Do you see me _submitting_ to you? Shiratorizwa’s priorities are skewed. I wouldn’t be able to do any of the things I would actually need to grow as a player, in service of you!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Wakatoshi. 

Wakatoshi, for his part, didn't say anything back. But his expression had turned guilty. 

_Good._

“This doesn’t end in high school. I don’t plan on it, at least. I want to be the best possible player I can be. That's more important to me than making it to nationals. Though make no mistake!" He pricked his finger into Wakatoshi's chest. "We _will_ beat you and we _will_ go to nationals. I don't care how good you are, how hooked up on Shiratorizawa team pride juice, we'll find a way to beat you eventually."

Wakatoshi just stared at him, face red. 

"What? Don't believe me?"

"No, I…" He raked a hand through his hair and his face turned even redder.

"Just say it. I said what I wanted to. I'm not as emotional as I was on Friday, I won't get mad this time." 

"I really want to kiss you again right now"

That was… not what he expected. Tooru could feel himself go as red as Wakatoshi. Unconsciously, he leaned in. 

"Seriously?"

"I told you that the first thing that drew me to you was your drive and passion, didn't I? It shouldn't be that surprising." 

He paused and sat up straighter, looking Tooru directly in the eyes. 

"I… thought your pride was driving us apart, and you were sabotaging yourself. When in reality…" He looked down "I was asking you to hold yourself back, and that was what made you resent me. I was stupid, and wrong."

Tooru chuckled. "Honestly? Good."

"Huh?"

"You're already annoyingly perfect in every other way. If you were also wise then I think I'd have to fling myself off a cliff." 

…

"You think I'm perfect?"

"Ugh! That _would_ be the only thing you got from that! You're so annoying." And then he kissed him again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… this was LONG. Even longer than both previous chapters combined! That's why the update took two weeks this time. I’m trying to have a schedule where I can update every 7-10 days, with exceptions for exams and such. But this took a lot longer than I expected. Can you believe I actually ended this chapter prematurely? There was supposed to be even more after the second kiss, it’s crazy! I decided the chapter was already too long, though. So I’ll leave that for the next update. 
> 
> you can follow me [here](https://twitter.com/lgbtloonaverse) on twitter!


	4. 100627

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use the names of a few types japanese food in this chapter. I romanize the names obviously, but still keep them in japanese (since they don't really have equal englsih counterparts)  
> So, in case you get confused, here are the explanations of the foods I mentioned that you might not have heard of if you're an ignorant westerner like me:  
> Kara-age: Small fried chucken pieces marinated in soy sauce and ginger and coated in potato strach before frying.  
> Inarizushi: A type of sushi, with rice stuffed into fried tofu pockets  
> Tsukemono: a type of pickled vegetables  
> Ichigo Daifuku: a dessert, made of a mochi outer shell with filling. In this case, a whole strawberry and some sweet red bean paste 
> 
> And I REALLY hope that I wouldn't have to explain what miso soup is.

“Iwa-chan, am I being stupid?” 

“Yes, always” Hajime answered deadpan, not even looking up from where he was rolling up the Tamagoyaki 

“Not like that! I'm super smart in general” He whined, ignoring the disbelieving snort from his best friend. For once, their usual squabbling didn't help. "I meant…" He gestured frantically towards the plethora of snacks, food, and ingredients decorating the counter. “About this!” 

Hajime stilled and wildly shook his head before walking away. “Nope, no way. This is where I draw the line. I already woke up at the ass crack of dawn to help you cook. I am  _ not _ going to be your relationship counselor or boyfriend advisor or whatever."

"Iwa-chan, don't leave!" He grabbed Hajime by the arm. 

Hajime tugged himself free. "Figure out your own shit, crappykawa.” 

“Boo! you’re so mean to me!" Tooru complained.

"If you weren't in front of a pan with hot oil I would hit you right now." Hajime shot back. But he did step back into the kitchen. 

"So violent, Iwa-chan." Tooru scowled. But went back to coating the chicken pieces in flour and carefully dropping them in the bubbling oil. 

Next to him, Hajime yawned as he cut the cucumber into slices.

Tsukemono, fresh out of their overnight pickling liquid, potato salad, freshly fried inarizushi, sliced vegetables with miso fruit and egg sandwiches, a watermelon, ready to cut into smaller pieces, a still steaming pot of rice next to a hot pan of miso soup, and a pair of bento boxes to fit most of it in, with cute handkerchiefs That Hajime had stolen from his parents' cabinets. He could put the fried foods and tamagoyaki in with the rice. The rest would be packed separately. 

It was thoughtful, homemade, fresh, and with Hajime's help, it would also taste good. 

It was going to be the perfect date.

_ And still... _

He wasn't even sure if he wanted to go. 

Tooru walked a constant tightrope between pride and insecurity. He  _ knew  _ he was good. At volleyball, at talking to people, at his studies, 

He knew he was good looking, that girls liked him, that he was one of the most promising students at a top school and his parents were proud of him. 

And yet there was a voice in the back of his head. A constant reminder that, sure, he was good, but not good  _ enough. _

Wakatoshi was especially good at bringing out that side. Just by being  _ better.  _ Towering over him on the court, always unaffected even when Tooru was seething in anger. Being braver than he could ever be by admitting his feelings first. Even though Tooru hated him and could easily have been a homophobic asshole. 

Really, how could it be that one person could make him feel treasured and worthless at the same time? 

_ But it's not his fault I'm like this. _

It was unfair to put all of that on him. He'd never meant to feed into Tooru's inferiority complex. He didn't defeat him just for the purpose of hurting him. 

He hadn't even meant to insult Tooru's friends and teammates. They'd left that behind them, hopefully. 

And Tooru  _ liked _ him, somehow. 

He picked the kaga-ara out of the oil and laid them to dry on paper towels. Hands working mechanically as he was lost in thoughts. 

"I just…" he sighed. "I'm not sure."

Hajime slammed the knife down and sighed, seemingly giving up. “Fine!” he said. "Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go on that damn date” he grabbed the bento box and pressed it into Tooru’s hands. “Because like hell am I letting you waste all this food. And you’ll have a great time with our arch-nemesis because you’re stupid like that. And then you’re gonna come back and spare me the details because  _ I don’t wanna hear about them! _ "

Tooru's throat closed up. 

_ Hell no, enough of that. I'm not gonna cry like a baby _ .

“Aww Iwa-chan, you do care!” He theatrically threw himself into Hajime’s arms. “I love you so much” 

“Bit weird to confess to me when you’re about to go out with another guy” 

“Shut up! I’m trying to have a moment here!” 

"Well stop the moment or I'll punch you in the face." 

In response, Tooru jabbed him in the side, right under his ribs. Where years of best friend status had taught him that Hajime was ticklish. Je screeched and pushed Tooru backward, his back hit the counter, spilling some of the scorching hot oil over the tip of the pan and onto the counter with a sizzling noise. They both froze instantly. 

At least it got Tooru out of his own head for a minute. 

Hajime cleared his throat. "Has the Kara-age dried already?" 

Tooru turned around to check the chicken pieces. "Almost, just a minute or so more." 

"Well start packing up, then. You still need to stop by a confectionary shop to buy dessert." 

  
  


.

.

.

  
  


For a change, Tooru was the first to arrive at their agreed location. He moved the picnic basket, which he'd hidden inside a plastic bag in case of rain (and to keep what was inside a surprise) to his left arm, leaned against the wall, and waited.

After 5 minutes, he pulled out his phone and started refreshing his messages periodically.

Another 5 minutes passed. Nothing. 

It wasn't like he was particularly late, it was barely one minute past the time they'd planned to meet. But Tooru was getting antsy nonetheless. 

He was about to type a "Where are you?" when a deep voice came from behind him. 

"Oikawa?" Tooru whirled around and there he was. 

_ God, he looks good _ .

What was it, that he couldn't stop noticing that now? Had Wakatoshi suddenly gotten good at dressing and styling his hair? Or was it Tooru who had changed, had started looking at him differently? 

Probably the latter, since Wakatoshi still didn't know how to dress like he was a normal person and not like he was going to a formal dinner with nobility. At least he was only wearing a blazer over a neat shirt, and not an actual suit. 

_ My taste in boys really is awful. Someone save me. _

"Waka-chan!" Regardless of the thoughts whirling in his head, he beamed at him. "I was wondering where you were!" 

"I made you wait? I thought we agreed on 11 in the morning. Did I get the time wrong?" He looked down, as if expecting to see a watch on his very much watchless wrist. 

"No, no you didn't." Tooru waved a dismissive hand at him. "I was just early. So," he smirked at Wakatoshi. "Are you ready to go?"

"Since you insisted this be a surprise, I have no idea where we're going."

"Well yeah, that's the point of a surprise, silly Waka-chan!" He playfully nudged Wakatoshi's shoulder. "Anyway, we have to pick something up here, first." He pointed at the bike shop on the other side of the road. "You do know how to ride a bike, right?"

"Obviously," Wakatoshi said, as if Tooru had just asked him if grass was green. 

"Obviously" Tooru replied sarcastically, but his tone was light. He winked, for good measure.

_ Gotta be painfully obvious, or he won't get that I'm joking. Idiot. _

They walked into the bike rental shop. Tooru had called ahead of time, to make sure everything would go quickly. 

He placed his bag into the basket at the front of his bike. Wakatoshi looked at it with interest.

"What is inside of it?" He asked. Tooru immediately secured the knot he'd put on the top so Wakatoshi wouldn't be able to see anything. 

"You really don't know how surprises work, do you? You'll find out in due time!" 

Tooru hopped on his bike and opened his phone to see the map.

_ Let's get this started then. _

  
  


.

.

.

  
  


"Are you curious?" Tooru asked, slowing down slightly so he was cycling right next to Wakatoshi. "It's our first date, you should be wondering what I've been planning, right?" 

"Technically, it's our second," Wakatoshi replied. Which was not the answer Tooru had been trying to pull out of him. 

But he had a point. The festival, way back in March. That was technically a date, wasn't it? 

"Maybe it's our third, if you count kissing and playing volleyball as a date." He wondered. 

Wakatoshi hummed. "I think, for us, it would count." 

"Yeah, it should." Tooru agreed, already feeling his face heating up just by thinking back to that day. "Third date then! That's still an important number. Aren't you curious?" 

"I am. But you said that was the point of the surprise." Wakatoshi said, deadpan. 

Ugh, really? This guy made it impossible to just… tease him a little bit. He shook it off. 

"Well, wait no longer. Because we're here!"

It was a park. Tall elegant trees, neatly trimmed bushes, and colorful flowers. And in the middle a large circular pond. Full of fish, a swan or two, but most importantly,  _ duck _ s. 

"Duck Feeding?" Wakatoshi asked as Tooru pulled a loaf of stale bread from the bag, careful to hide the rest of its contents hidden from view. "Is that what you planned?"

"It's not the  _ whole _ date, silly. It's just part one! A warmup, of sorts." Something cute and light to start the day off. It wasn't like anything he would've ever seen himself do with  _ Ushijima Wakatoshi _ of all people. But, hey, that's what dates were for, right? Getting to know someone in a new light?

Wakatoshi was still frowning, though. 

"What's bothering you?" Tooru asked. 

Wakatoshi took the bag of bread from him, looking down at it with apprehension. "Feeding ducks bread is rather harmful to them." He said. 

"Wait,  _ what? _ " But he'd been doing this since he was a toddler! 

"Yes. It does not have the proper nutrients the birds need to survive. But they'll feel full from the bread and not look for more food. So they become malnourished."

"What, so I'm  _ hurting _ them?"

"Counterintuitively, yes." 

_ No. No way _ .

It wasn't even his childhood memories being sullied that hurt the most, it was the wave of embarrassment and humiliation washing over him for being so ignorant.

_ Wow, what a spectacular way to start a date. Good job. _

This was supposed to be  _ perfect.  _ And if it couldn't be that, at least it was supposed to be great. Call him dramatic, a showoff, or prideful, if you wanted to be really ironic. But he'd wanted this to go well. To… impress him. For some reason. 

He refused to look Wakatoshi in the eye and tried to hide his disappointment. He needed to fix this. Now.

_ goddammit. _

Softly but firmly, a slice was placed into his hands. 

"I think," Wakatoshi said, eyes uncharacteristically soft "that small amounts should be fine. For this once." His hand covered Tooru's, giving it a tiny squeeze. 

Tooru's breath hitched, he could feel the blood rushing to his head, ringing in his ears.

Wakatoshi hummed, turning the loaf around in his hands. "Though it would be nice if we had oats. Or peas. That would make for a more balanced diet." He said absentmindedly. 

Tooru guffawed. "Eh? Are you some bird-feeding expert, Waka-chan?" 

Wakatoshi blinked at him, confused.

"I am not. But we had a pond in our land and my grandmother taught me to feed them properly."

_ Of course you'd have a proper way of feeding ducks _ . Tooru thought.  _ You probably also have a guide on how to chase squirrels. _

Weird, how it'd have annoyed him before but it seemed strangely endearing now. He stared at the slice of bread in his hands, and then at the ducks in the pond.

_ Let's do it properly, then. _

He snagged the bag of bread back and put the slice back in before dropping it into his basket. "Well, in that case!" He clapped his hands and grinned up at Wakatoshi. "Let's buy some duck-food!" And before he could doubt himself, he grabbed Wakatoshi's hand and dragged him along. 

10 minutes later, with oats and, at a lack of peas, a head of lettuce tucked under his arm and 400 yen lighter, they emerged from the store. 

"This has become a habit," Wakatoshi said. 

"What has?"

"You, dragging me around." He looked down, to where their hands were still linked. "Is this something you enjoy?" 

_ Oh. _

_ Wait, do I do that a lot? _

With horror, Tooru realized that,  _ yes _ , even way back during that festival. He's been taking hold of Wakatoshi's hands time and time again. Without even realizing it! 

Immediately he tried to let go. But the grip on his hand tightened. "I didn't ask you to stop," Wakatoshi mumbled, refusing to meet Tooru's eyes. But the flush making his way down his cheeks to his neck betrayed him. 

"Of course." He squeezed the hand in his, smiling when he felt a squeeze back. 

He couldn't help it, a small chuckle escaped him. And then another, eventually dissolving into full-blown laughter. 

"What is so amusing?"

"I can't believe-" he hiccuped. "I can't believe you asked me if I liked holding hands with you!" 

"Why? Do you not?"

"I'm doing it right now!" He lifted their joined hands and swung them around in front of Wakatoshi's face. 

"Oh," Wakatoshi mumbled, a little dazzled. "Right."

Tooru's eyes fell to Wakatshi's lips, stretched into the tiniest smile. And he felt his throat close up 

He remembered that feeling. A hand on his waist, burning a hole through his shirt and searing his skin, fingers tangled in his hair, lips moving against his. His heartbeat picked up at the images flashing in his brain. 

_ Again. I want to do that again. _

They were back in the park. There was a young woman with a small boy, no older than 5, sitting at a bench to their left. She was on her phone while the boy, either her son or a very young brother, ran around chasing the pigeons. 

_ Not now. _

He snatched a leaf of lettuce and tore it into little pieces, squatting at the edge of the pond, throwing them in the water one by one and watching as the ducks rushed to pick it up and devour it with their little beaks. There was a slightly smaller one, no longer a duckling but noticeably less big than the others. Probably a youngling, only born late in the spring. And it was struggling to get to the front. Tooru tore off an extra-large piece of lettuce and threw it directly at the duck, groaning in frustration when another, larger male duck snatched it away before the small one could get to it. He tore off another piece.

"C'mon buddy, get this one, okay?" He murmured. And with pinpoint precision he threw it toward the tiny duck, cheering internally as it craned its little neck down and wolfed down the lettuce in one go. 

Something settled over him, like a warm blanket on a cold night, easing his heart and his worries.

A mix of the warm sunlight pouring down from the sky, the loud quacking of the ducks, the ever-present buzz of cicada's, the smell of grass and trees, and... something he couldn't quite place. For the first time today, he felt calm. 

And then he looked up from the water and discovered what that something was. 

Wakatoshi was staring down at him, with a gentle awed expression. Lips parted and pupils dilated. 

_ Seriously? _

"Are you just gonna stand there and look at me all day?" He teased, a grin tugging at his lips "There's a lot more to do!"

Wakatoshi didn't move. "I don't think looking at you would be a waste of my time." He replied earnestly. 

_ What the fuck _ . 

Tooru bowed his head, a fruitless attempt to hide the way his own face was burning red. "Sure," He choked out. "If that's what you wanna do." 

Wakatoshi kneeled down beside him and took a handful of oats, gently tossing it towards the ducks in small amounts at a time. 

A couple of koi fish came swimming to the surface as well, snacking on the stray oat grains floating in the water. 

Tooru willed his blush away and continued ripping off tiny pieces of lettuce and throwing handfuls of oats into the water, watching as the birds pecked at each other to get to the food first, as if there wasn't more than enough for all of them. 

It was a good start. 

  
  


.

.

.

  
  


The park faded from sight. Gradually, the larger houses from the suburbs got replaced by tiny apartments and shops as they got closer and closer to the city center. 

And Tooru abruptly hit the brakes, the bike wheels squeaking as he came to a standstill. Wakatoshi shot a few meters past him before stopping and looking back at him in bewilderment.

"We're here!" Tooru gestured proudly to his left.

Wakatoshi blinked and squinted at the building as he got off his bike and walked back towards him. "An arcade?"

"Watch out, Waka-chan," Tooru grinned maniacally. "Because I'm gonna grind you into the dirt." 

Wakatoshi raised his eyebrows, slowly, surprise got replaced with the familiar glint of competitiveness. "We'll see about that." He said.

"Bring it on, Waka-chan" Tooru replied.

Now, that Wakatoshi was better at him at volleyball,  _ for now _ , was a hard pill to swallow. But one thing was certain: Tooru could absolutely  _ crush _ him in video-games.

Finding out that Ushijima Wakatoshi, powerhouse ace, and unmovable mountain, had a downright horrible sense of rhythm and that his hand-eye coördination was the only thing just barely saving him during rhythm games would have sent Past-Tooru rolling on the floor laughing

And current Tooru too, of course.

"You're so bad at this!" He wheezed, nearly doubled over in laughter as Wakatoshi lost, for the 4th time in a row. 

_ I'll have to take him out to dance one time. Bet he's awful at that too, it'll be hilarious!  _

He stored that idea away for later. Now, it was time to completely obliterate his worst enemy (and date, if you cared about the details) at Taiko No Tatsujin. 

He didn't even get halfway to the high-score, because some of the guys who played these games were as freakishly devoted to them as he was to volleyball and there simply was no competing with that. But he actually managed to finish some at a harder difficulty and didn't look like a panicked goose flapping its wings while playing. 

He pointed triumphantly at Wakatoshi. "Ha, take that! Loser-chan!" It was a lame insult, but he didn't care. 

On the steadily increasing list of things Wakatoshi was better than him at, videogames were decidedly not an entry. But being a graceful loser apparently was, since all he gave as a reaction was a blank stare as Tooru mocked him to his face. 

In between the 3 hours they spent inside and the thousands of yen they were blowing on coins, Tooru spotted several other couples. They couldn't have acted more differently than the two of them. Girls walking around with plushies that either they or their boyfriends blew a fortune on in claw machines to get. A but stood behind his girlfriend on a hoop game, gently adjusting her form and whispering into her ear as she giggled. 

It was a far cry from the teasing and competing he and Wakatoshi were doing. 

But perhaps this suited them better. They were rivals, after all. The need for competition, to one-up each other, was etched into their bones

And besides, he had plenty of plans to be cute and affectionate at the end of the day. 

From the corner of his eyes, he saw a girl leap into her boyfriend's arms after scoring a point, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him square on the lips.

Another thing he wouldn't be able to do. Not here, with people watching. 

But that chance would come later. It  _ would. _

And he had other things to do right now. 

So, in the middle of a colorfully neon-lit arcade, with obnoxious pings and chimes all around them, Tooru cackled as the boy he liked fumbled another attempt at gaming, and felt better than he had in months.

  
  


.

.

.

"So," Tooru said. "Have you figured out what's in the bag yet? What the last thing on our list is?"

Wakatoshi looked out over the hill they'd arrived at, a sprawling field of grass and tiny flowers.

"A picnic?" He guessed 

"Bingo! Finally, now you know." He picked the bag out of the front basket of the bike and opened it to take out a colorful blanket and draped it over his arm. "Let's find us a pace to sit, hm?" 

It was beautiful. The sky was free of clouds and the sun shone brightly. A cool breeze intercepted the hot summer air and made it refreshing instead of blazing hot. 

It was perfect picnic weather. 

Plus, here in a vacant spot, far from shops and houses, maybe they could get some privacy. 

And then Tooru might be able to do what he'd been wanting to do all day, but couldn't in public. 

Except...

They were not alone. 

On the foot side of the hill was a family of five. A mother sitting with a book in her lap and her head resting in her palm. Her daughter next to her, busy snacking on the toasted rice cakes in front of her. Two young boys were running around in the grass, their clothes already spoiled with dirt and sand. Their father was chasing after them, swooping them up and lifting them up high in the air. Their delighted screeches and laughter carried themselves far across the hill and beyond. 

Any other day, Tooru would have found the display adorable. But now, when he'd been looking for some privacy with his date the  _ whole damn day _ , he wanted nothing more than for them to leave. Now, preferably. Or, if they could be so polite to break the laws of physics, in the past, before he and Wakatoshi had even arrived. 

He ground his teeth in frustration. 

Well. It'd have to do. 

"C'mon, Waka-chan. Help me lay this out!"

They spread the blanket on the grass, and Tooru started unpacking. Two bentos. The tsukemono, salad, and other vegetables in small glass containers. Watermelon slices and the two pairs of sandwiches wrapped in plastic. He had a thermos with him and two small cups for the miso soup. 

Wakatoshi gaped at the food. "You made all this?"

"Sure did!" Technically that was a lie. Hajime had done most of the work, and he'd coached Tooru through everything else. But no one else needed to know that. And he was quite enjoying the awe and gratefulness in Wakatoshi's eyes. 

He set out the variety of drinks and sweets he'd bought that morning too. Mouth already watering at the sight of the ichigo daifuku. 

It had cost him a fortune, and it was probably way too much food for two teenagers to eat. But hey, they were athletes! You needed a big appetite if you practiced 5 days a week! (7, in Tooru's case) 

He lifted his chopsticks at Wakatoshi and beamed. 

"Have a nice meal~" he cheered, and dug in. 

The food was good. Really good. Tooru should've known this, he was there when it was made after all. But he couldn't help the surprised noise when he bit into the inarizushi and flavor exploded in his mouth. 

Minutes later, he had already finished half the bento and his egg sandwich, and they had fallen into a conversation about their families

Wakatoshi talked about the family who would come over to his house during summers, about his much rowdier cousins, about how there was never a silent moment in the house in these summers, so unlike the rest of the year. 

Tooru told him about Takeru in return. Mostly exaggerated complaining in such a fond tone that anyone who knew him well enough would easily pick up on and call him out on his bullshit for. Truth was, he loved being an uncle, no matter how annoying that little brat could get. 

It was nice, easy in a way he'd never expected talking to him could even be. 

But he wanted more.

"Hey, waka-chan," he picked up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks and held it out. "Ah~"

Wakatoshi stared blankly at him. "I have my own." 

_ What? _

"Well- i... just give me yours later, then." 

Wakatoshi's knitted his eyebrows. "I don't see the point." He said, "We'll just end up with the same amount." 

Tooru gaped at him, searching for any sign of sarcasm or a punchline. But no, nothing but that same stupid complete sincerity. 

_ Wow. This is the guy I like? Something must really be wrong with me.  _

"Just eat the damn thing." He groaned. And Wakatoshi complied. 

He leaned forward and closed his lips around the piece of chicken, so close to Tooru's face. Touching  _ his _ chopsticks, which had been in  _ his _ mouth just seconds prior. 

_ Well fuck _

Did that count as an indirect kiss? 

He swallowed thickly, eyes zeroed in on Wakatoshi's lips as he licked any stray oil off. 

_ I'd rather have a direct one _ .

"Here," He looked up to see the other piece of kara-age right in front of his face. "Your turn," Wakatoshi said. 

"Right." He captured the piece with his teeth and closed his lips around it, steadily maintaining eye contact. He saw how Wakatoshi's eyes carefully followed his movements and-

A loud shriek cut through the air, and the moment shattered. 

_ Goddammit! _

Tooru wiped his mouth with a tissue, trying to hide his disappointment. 

It didn't matter. As long as that family was there, nothing would happen. 

On the bright side. After finishing most of the meat, rice, and vegetables, it was  _ finally _ time for the sweets. 

He rushed to open the packages from the confectionary store. It wasn't homemade, and therefore kind of less romantic. But they were still handmade by the store and so delicious that Tooru couldn't care less. 

Sweetness burst onto his tongue. Gods, he loved this stuff. He threw a side glance at Wakatoshi, biting into a watermelon slice. And, for a second, a crazy thought flashed in his mind. 

You always saw that in shoujo manga, right? The characters are eating and one of them likes the food  _ so much  _ that they moan obscenely, instantly flustering their love interest.

_ What if I... _

But, really, who actually sounded like that when eating? Better to leave that in stories. It'd be embarrassing. 

Besides, he thought bitterly, it wasn't like they could do anything with that family here. 

But when he looked to where they were, his heart skipped a beat.

The boys were no longer running, instead, they being berated by their mother as she dusted off whatever dirt she could from their ruined clothes. The daughter was standing by a car down the road, tapping her foot impatiently. And the father was putting their leftovers into a bag

They were packing up!

He kept his eyes locked onto the family as they got into their car and drove away. He didn't stop until they were nothing more than a dot on the horizon.

_ Finally alone _

He turned back to Wakatoshi, who was already watching him.

He sat up, clambered across the food until he was right in front of him, thighs bracketing his. Wakatoshi leaned back instinctively but stopped himself, hands hovering in the air, unsure where to put them. 

Tooru put his hands on Wakatoshi's shoulders and leaned in, but froze halfway through, his hooded eyes opening fully at the sight in front of him. 

It was late in the afternoon, or early in the evening. The sun wouldn't go down for hours to come, but the light fell on the hill in such an angle that it bathed everything in a sea of brightness and color. Including Wakatoshi's face. 

And  _ those eyes _

With the tip of his finger he tilted Wakatoshi's head until it was facing the direction of the sun. The light fell on his face, highlighting the sharp angle of his jaw, the shape of his nose, the sun-kissed colour of his skin. His eyes shone like a summer field filled with marigolds. 

The sight left him breathless. 

He leaned in even further, their noses just centimeters away from each other. Those beautiful green eyes widened in surprise and flickered down to his lips. 

"Has anyone ever told you," He whispered. "That your eyes have golden spots in them?" 

And then he slotted their lips together. 

It could not be more different than their first kiss. Or their second. The first had been angry and aggressive, more teeth clacking than actual kissing. The second hadn't been as hard, but it was still hurried and clumsy. This one was calm, tender, and warm. 

And Tooru discovered, as he moved his lips slowly, that he… didn't really know how kissing worked. Or what he was supposed to do now. There was a lot he  _ wanted _ to do, but he had no idea how or when. 

As it turned out, that didn't matter. One of Wakatoshi's hands touched his head and threaded his fingers into Tooru's hair. Another landed on his knee, squeezing it comfortingly. 

It was still messy and graceless. But he had the boy he liked in his hands and all Tooru could feel was  _ warm _ . 

He pulled away sooner than he wanted, cursing the need for air of human lungs. Wakatoshi chased after him instinctively, eyes fluttering open to see where the warmth had gone.

_ Wow _

Tooru got overwhelmed by a wave of affection. "Be my boyfriend." He breathed out. "Like, for real" 

_ Seriously, that's how I decide to say it? Idiot! _

"Yes," Wakatoshi said immediately. "Yes, I do." 

_ Geez, that makes it sound like I asked him to get marrie- nope. no. Killing that train of thought. Absolutely fucking not going there. _

"I-Uhm. Good. Yeah, good." He hid his burning face in the crook of Waktoshi's neck, lips resting against his color bone. He breathed in his scent, fresh laundry softener, grass, and sea breeze, but an undertone so  _ human. _

_ Yeah. This is good. I'm happy. _

  
  


.

.

.

  
  


“Iwa-chaaaaaan~” 

“I thought I told you not to bother me, shittykawa” Hajime sighed from his desk. "How did you even get in here?" 

What a stupid question. As if Tooru hadn't had access to the Iwaizumi home since he was a toddler. 

“How rude!" He exclaimed. "You’re such a brute, Iwa-chan.” 

He threw himself onto Hajime's bed and looked at him expectantly, fluttering his eyelashes. Hajime ignored him. 

That was fine, Tooru could wait. 

He wiggled around, making himself comfortable on Hajime's bed. After a minute or so, he started tapping his fingers against the wooden side of Hajime's desk. Just to… spur him on a little.

Hajime's jaw clenched in annoyance, but he 

So, after another two minutes. Tooru started whistling. 

"Fine!" He yelled, throwing his hands in the air in desperation. "What do you want, Shittykawa?" 

"Why so angry, Iwa-chan?" He gasped in mock-offense. "I just wanted to talk to my best friend. Am I not allowed to?"

“Shut up, don’t you have a boyfriend to talk to now?” 

“Yes,” Tooru breathed out. A dopey smile forming on his face. “Yes, I do.” 

“Oh, gross, please don’t get sappy on me now.”

Tooru sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Iwa-chan,” he mumbled, “I feel so dumb.” 

Hajime looked at him, alarmed. Tooru giggled, high and a little delirious

“I’m so happy! It’s so stupid!” he laughed, slapping his hands over his eyes. “I can’t stop smiling, how lame is that?” 

“Are you kidding me? You asshole!” Hajime punched him in the stomach, Tooru grunted and fell backward on the bed. "I was actually worried for a second." 

"Awww, Iwa-chan cares about me! How cute." Tooru hissed, still clutching his stomach.

"Fuck off." 

Tooru's phone buzzed. He flew straight up, pain forgotten, and opened it. His heartbeat picked up when he saw who the message was from. 

**Toshi <3: ** _ I had a good time today, I hope you did too. _

_ I look forward to doing this again. _

_ And I liked the kiss. _

“Oh man, he really talks like that?” 

Tooru jumped at the sound of Hajime's voice over his shoulder. Quickly, he hid his phone under the blankets. “Iwa-chan! Has no one ever taught you to respect people’s privacy?” He tried to kick him.

Hajime quickly dodged the attack. "Oh shut up. And I can't believe you have a heart next to his name in your contacts. Gross." 

Tooru squawked. "Take that back! It's cute!" 

His phone buzzed again and he ignored his best friend in favor of opening his messages again 

**Toshi <3: ** _ Can I assume that this means I get to pick the next date? _

**Me:** _ Sure! But you have some expectations to live up to. Good luck trying to beat this! (・ωｰ)～☆ _

**Toshi <3:** _I will do my best_

"Your smile is so fucking mushy, I think I'm gonna barf." 

"Iwa-chan! How dare you!  _ Ow- _ no! Get off me!" 

And just for now, everything was great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So writing this chapter I found out that I have NO idea how to write fluff. Angst is just my natural habitat. That's why this five thousand chapter took just as long as the last one, a 7.4K monster of a chapter BUT full of angst! And on top of that, I had exams today. I'm sorry to the person who I told that this would be done on the 14th, you should never trust anything I say. I hope you didn't wait too long! 
> 
> Let's pray that I get my shit together and then chapter 5 SHOULD be up between the 22nd and 25th!


	5. 101121 & 101122

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IT SI! ANOTHER CHAPTER I UPDATED TOO LATE! I might have realized that doing one chapter a week is a bit too fast-paced for a beginner writer like me. Especially since I'm also working on a HQ bang piece preparing a rather large multi-chaptered fic I will start uploading during a fanweek in January, and working on two pieces specifically for a Zine application. So from now on, instead of trying and failing to upload on a weekly basis, I'm limiting myself to two or updates per month. Just to I can keep regularly updating this piece while also working in my other stuff AND not failing my university classes. I hope you guys can understand

Volleyball was, ultimately, not about winning.

That sounded weird, because it was a competitive sport. And in the end, everyone on the court wanted to win. Why else would you be there?

Why else would you spend hours and hours driving yourself to your limits and beyond? Why else would you do drills until your muscles were screaming at you to stop? Why else would you run until you were heaving and your legs felt like jelly? Why else would you repeat that one move over and over and over again, trying to get the perfect angle by the degree, the perfect timing by the millisecond, to drill it into your muscle memory until you could repeat it in your sleep?

Gaining skills and polishing them, again and again, and again.

But all of those things had merit and value on their own. They were not just a means to an end, but an end on their own.

Volleyball was, ultimately, about so much more than winning.

However, losing still hurt.

The sight of his captain handing in his #1 jersey and walking out of the gym would stay burned into his mind for years.

It hadn't been enough. They'd failed again. The third years wouldn't have had to retire yet if they'd made it to nationals. They could've had months more.

There was no use for regrets, like saying they should've worked harder or didn't practice enough. They'd worked as hard as they could, all of them. They had been on their very best and done everything they could.

And they still came up short.

And there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't turn back time, ask the universe for a second chance. He couldn't make his captain and his other senpais walk back into the court for one more year, or even just one more match.

He could only continue to practice. Get better, to make sure the next time didn't end up like this.

They were in that period of limbo. The few months after the third years left the team but before the new first years would join in the new school year. Where you were trying to get used to playing without your senpais and be a cohesive team before you welcomed the newbies. No matter what, no matter how many years he got through this, practice always felt incomplete in those months. Suddenly only a third of the club was gone with no one to replace them. The gym felt empty, even if there were still nearly 20 people there, it felt wrong.

Nonetheless, it was an opportunity to shake things up during practice. A lot of the starting spots had gone open and without the first years there, nothing was solid yet.

Tooru got to play with second and third-string teammates he'd never tossed to before. His senpais, especially. There were the ones fighting for a starting position, with another year of hard work and experience behind them to maybe finally push their way onto the court, and there were the ones who had quietly resigned themselves to their fate, to the fact that in their last year, they wouldn't even make it to the bench. A few of them would probably quit the club next year, but the rest would stay, and find the joy of playing volleyball here in practice and cheer them on from the sidelines.

But regardless of personal ambitions, Tooru was determined to bring out the absolute best in all of his spikers. If his teammates didn't make the cut, it would not be because he hadn't done everything in his power to get them there.

Tooru and Hajime had been the only first years in the starting lineup, but that was about to change.

"Hey, Oikawa! Watcha dreaming about that's so much more important than cleaning?"

Matsukawa Issei flung an arm around his shoulders and used the centimeters he had on Tooru to lean over him.

"You doing anything after practice? Me, Makki, Yuda, and some other first years are getting ramen at my uncle's place."

"Hmm, no I'll have to pass! I have plans already." He tried to act as nonchalant as possible.

Those "plans" were lunch and a trip to the bookstore to get two new volumes of the mecha manga he'd gotten Wakatoshi into.

But despite his best efforts, he caught the attention of the other new addition to their starter lineup, and a less new addition to his friend-group.

"Oho? That's vague. What are these plans of yours, huh? Can't be anything with Iwaizumi cause he's coming with us too." Hanamaki Takahiro smirked triumphantly.

Traitor, Tooru thought, shooting a glare at Hajime's back. But he couldn't always expect his best friend to cover for his dates.

How were you supposed to tell your teammates that you had a date with the guy who just crushed their dreams?

Simple, you didn't.

"Just meeting someone and getting lunch, is all." He shrugged.

"Oh, so mysterious~ are you hiding something from us, you got a secret girlfriend, Oikawa?"

"If he had a girlfriend he'd be talking our ears off and brag about it all day." Hajime deadpanned.

Issei snorted loudly. "Yeah, that sounds about right. He wouldn't be able to shut up."

"What is this? I did nothing and you're all attacking me!" He whined. He dropped the mop. "I think

"Oi, Shitttykawa! Finish your work or I'll kick your ass!"

"Apologize first."

"Like hell I am!"

"HEY!" The booming voice of their newly appointed captain echoed through the room. "First years! Stop fighting and finish up! Or I'm making you each run ten laps and then re-do all the cleaning by yourself!"

"Yes, captain." They replied in unison and went back to cleaning up the gym for the day

Tooru ignored Hajime's death stare and made quick work of mopping the floor. For once, he was actually eager to leave the practice room instead of staying back. The earlier he got out of here, the better.

As he bent down to empty the bucket with dirty water, he felt an abrupt flash of pain in his right knee.

Memories of middle school he'd pressed down came rising back up.

He violently shook his head. No. He wasn't going back to that.

Once he straightened back up, the pain faded into a quiet barely-there ache. Less prominent even than the usual burn in his muscles that everyone got after a good practice.

Must've been nothing.

.  
.  
.

"Wait, don't turn the page, I wasn't done yet."

Wakatoshi obediently turned one page back and held the manga closer to Tooru's face so he could see it better.

Tooru hummed, and sluggishly tightened his arms around Wakatoshi's waist. Paying half a mind to the comic book held they were reading together while the other was occupied with the warmth seeping through the fabric of his boyfriend's sweater.

May the person who invented private study carrels have an amazing day. He thought.

It was Wakatoshi who interrupted the peaceful silence next, a few minutes later, once they'd finished another chapter.

"I wanted to tell you something."

Tooru lifted his head, looking up at his boyfriend's face, it looked upside down from his position, and he suppressed a giggle. "Hm? What is it?"

"Recently, I got invited to the national japan under 19 training camp."

Oh.

Tooru froze. Wakatoshi's arms tightened for a moment. That was bad, he couldn't know.

It wasn't his fault.

He forcibly relaxed his muscles, sunk even deeper into his boyfriend's chest. But nothing could be done about the ice-cold chill inside of him.

"Really?" He tried to sound as disinterested as possible. "That's where they watch out for players they'll pick for the future national team, don't they?"

Not his fault not his fault not his fault

"It is." He paused for a moment. And then, "I am surprised I was the only one in the prefecture who got an invitation, since-"

"Stop. Don't say it."

"Why not? I expected you to be invited as well. I don't understand why they didn't."

"I don't want your pity" he hissed.

Wakatoshi's face hardened, and he straightened up, towering over Tooru. "I have never pitied you, not once. I said it because you are the best setter I know."

"Yeah? Well, you're my boyfriend. You're supposed to think I'm the best."

"That's illogical. Besides, I've thought it since long before we were dating."

"If you say so," Tooru muttered.

Just wait until he's playing with national level setters, he'll change his mind.

"Making nationals was never a requirement-"

"I know that, Waka-chan. Just… drop it. Okay?"

"Okay" Wakatoshi slammed his mouth shut and averted his eyes, an annoyed tic in the sharp line of his jaw. He didn't say another word for the rest of the hour.

The air between them was cold, tense. Tooru's head was spinning. Did they just fight? What was that?

Only much later, on his way back home, hands curled tightly into fists and shoved deep into his pockets, skin red and eyes dry because of the cold, did he realize that he never even told Wakatoshi congratulations, or that he was proud of him

What kind of lousy boyfriend am I?

He was distracted, placed his foot wrong, tripped over a protruding paving stone.

His knee throbbed.

It was nothing. Nothing.

He got home and walked to his room in a daze. His head wouldn't stop spinning. He couldn't think straight. And the bitter taste in his mouth just wouldn't go away.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was done. Wakatoshi apologized. They'd cleared up the misunderstanding. They were dating! Everything was supposed to be fine now!

So why did he still feel like this?

He grabbed his laptop and began rummaging through his collection of recorded volleyball matches until he found a certain labeled DVD among the stack.

2010\. Shiratorizawa vs. Aoba Johsai.

He put the disc in his laptop and sat on his bed legs crossed, with the computer in his lap.

He watched it again.

And again.

Scanning every moment. Every point. Every mistake. Every little thing they should've done differently, should've done better. Every botched receive, every blocked spike, every out of bounds serve.

He sat there until his weary eyes started hurting with the effort to keep them open, and his hands started to shake.

With the last of his energy, he stumbled to his desk to put his laptop away, before throwing himself onto his bed and promptly falling into a restless sleep.

The next morning, he woke up 2 and a half hours before his alarm was supposed to go off.

It was Monday. There was no practice. He should have been able to sleep in. But apparently, his body disagreed.

He laid frozen under the covers, eyes squeezed shut, willing himself back to sleep for nearly an hour, but it was futile.

He showered, brushed his teeth, went downstairs, and sat at the table. Waiting. Toying with his breakfast. Staring into his empty teacup.

School wouldn't start for hours. There was nothing for him to do except sit, and wait, and think.

Scenes from the tapes he watched last night flashed in his mind.

His stomach churned, he felt bile rising in his throat.

Self-loathing stuck to Tooru like a second skin. Slimy, sticky, and impossible to wash off. Je could ignore it most of the time, it didn't limit his movement or hinder him directly or anything like that. But he could never get rid of it either. And some days it got thicker and itchier. It didn't directly stop him but it was distracting. He couldn't focus because there was slime dripping down his skin and a tornado inside of his head.

He hated days like that. Days like this one.

School went by in a trance of classes he either didn't register or immediately forgot and a constant feeling of … something gnawing at the back of his mind. He couldn't look at his phone. He didn't know what would be worse, seeing a notification from him, or having no messages from him at all.

He walked out of class without so much as saying goodbye to his classmates and headed to a path he'd walked a dozen times before. When the hunger wouldn't settle, when his bones threatened to rattle out of his skin and the only thing that could keep it down was more volleyball. On the days he needed the touch of skin against rubber. Or on the ones where the sound of a ball hitting the floor with all the power a human being could mister was the only thing loud enough to drown out the whispers in his head.

Like today.

He gave Saito-san a quick nod when he came, but didn't have the time for anything more.

It was fine. He'd come here so often the old man barely looked up anymore.

He didn't know how many minutes or hours he spent stretching, running, and doing drills. Time blended together into a singular mass. One thought of not enough and more.

But eventually, his solo practices always came down to this.

There were six people on a team. Six people on the court. The collective was always more important than the individual.

But I refuse to be a weak link.

Nothing in volleyball was done alone, except the serve. And there were six people on a court and during the serve, they were all counting on you.

And. You. Can't. Miss.

The only way to beat a team that has unblockable attackers was to make sure they would never be able to attack in the first place.

Wham!

The ball slammed down on the other side of the court with the power and sound of a cannonball being shot.

His knees buckled when he landed, and he stumbled a but. It was fine, just out of balance for a moment.

His right knee still hurt a little. He'd been here for 2 hours, he should go home soon.

Just one more.

The next one went straight into the net.

Damn it!

He couldn't end it there. Just one more. To make up for that last blunder.

He picked up another ball from the tray and walked back to his position.

He threw up the serve toss.

A little higher than usual. Focus, dammit!

He ran forward, swung his arms back, and jumped.

His palm connected to the ball with an all-too-familiar sting. It felt good to him now. And he knew that this was a good one. One that would make even the best high school receivers struggle.

It was almost perfect.

And then it all went wrong.

He botched the landing. Maybe it was poor balance, or bad luck, maybe it was the fact that he'd barely gotten 5 hours of sleep that night.

The sound of the ball hitting the ground at the other side of the net was completely obscured by his own pained scream as fire exploded in his right knee.

He lost his balance and fell, his knees hit the ground with a sickening sound and a whole new wave of pain shot up through his leg.

He limped to his bag to get his phone out and dialed his sister's number.

"Nee-chan?" He gasped, choking on his own tears.

This can't be happening again. Not again. Please gods don't let it be permanent this time. you can't take this away from me.

"Nee-chan, I'm so sorry. S-something happened. I think I need to go to the hospital. Please come pick me up."

.  
.  
.

Two hours later, pumped full of painkillers and a special brace around his knee, Tooru laid back in his own bed, scrolling through his phone to distract himself from the whirlwind of conflicting thoughts flying around in his head, when his eye fell on a particular name in his contact list.

Shit

They hadn't talked since Sunday. And they needed to. Now.

He opened the contact. Still no new messages.

I'm sorry he typed

I sprained my knee. but it's nothing too serious

don't worry

It was stupid, lazy, not enough. But he was so, so tired and it was all he could do right now.

He had to apologize to him later. In-person.

It was the last thing he thought of before the exhaustion finally took over and he fell asleep.

He woke up gods knew how many hours later to the sound of something dropping and someone hissing obscenities.

Hajime, of course.

"God fucking dammit stupid figurines." Hajime cursed. Tooru heard shuffling behind him.

He bit the inside of his cheek. Of course he was here. His sister must have called him. It was probably one of the first things she did while Tooru was talking to the doctor.

He should probably let Hajime know he was awake.

But… he already felt awful. And he didn't exactly have the energy to endure a whole sermon right now.

A hand dropped on his shoulder, and Tooru tensed up. Nearly jumped, and gave himself away. But he managed to stay still.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed, and he noticed it was shaking.

"You fucking idiot," Hajime muttered, his voice cracked on the last syllable. "You absolute fucking moron."

Tooru stayed quiet.

The doorbell rang, and Hajime sighed. Tooru kept his eyes shut as the sound of Hajime's footsteps led outside the room and down the stairs.

Weird. His family wouldn't need to ring, and they didn't have any guests for today. Surely no one would have come just because he has a sprained knee.

The door opened and closed again, and two pairs of footsteps now ascended the stairs. They were talking, but it was unintelligible.

Tooru frowned and tried to make out what they were saying.

"... asleep right now, but I can kick him awake for you."

"No, it's alright. Please don't wake him up. He needs all the sleep he can get."

That voice.

He knew that voice.

Wakatoshi was here. In his house. After he'd gotten injured and hadn't even called him.

They entered the room, and Tooru nearly stopped breathing in his effort to stay still.

Neither of them said anything. There was the sound of a chair behind his desk being pulled back, and creaking when someone sat down, but that was it.

The silence stretched for ages. It hung thick in the sky, choking Tooru with unsaid words and unfinished conflicts.

Footsteps approached his bad, a warm broad hand stroke across his back. Wakatoshi leaned in and pressed his face against the back of Tooru's neck.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, voice full of sorrow and guilt.

No. Don't say that. It's not-

"It's not your fault," Hajime told him bruskly.

Wakatoshi stepped back from the bed. "I should've been more aware-"

"Nope. Oikawa's just fucking like that. He always takes on more than he can just cause he thinks he needs to. And then he ignores his limits because he doesn't know how to listen to his own damn body. This isn't on you, alright?"

"Alright." Wakatoshi didn't sound convinced.

Tooru squeezed his eyes shut. Tried to regulate his breathing to appear still asleep.

Hajime was right. Of course he was right.

It's not his fault.

Something in him wanted to jump up, reveal that he heard everything, and do… something. Anything to fix the awful guilt in his boyfriend's voice.

But he didn't. He kept still. And listened.

It was silent for what felt like forever

"I'm surprised you defended me from my own accusation."

"Why?"

"I know you don't hold a particularly high opinion of me."

Hajime snorted. "Sure, I don't like you. But I'm not a fucking hypocrite. Like… I– I've been there, okay? This isn't the first time he pulled shit like this. And when it happened in middle school… I blamed myself for it. I was his best friend, his teammate, I should've seen what was going on earlier, shouted some sense into him, forced him to go home sooner, just– anything to prevent it. But in the end, I couldn't have. If I'd taken him home earlier that day, he would've just overworked himself the next"

"Oh," Wakatoshi mumbled. "I see."

A thick blanket of silence fell over the room again.

It was Hajime who broke it this time.

"So, why do you still look like you ate a lemon then?" He asked.

Wakatoshi sighed deeply.

"I just wonder… if I actually make him happy."

That sentence took the chill in Tooru's chest that had refused to leave since their "fight" and made it rattle so hard it exploded.

There was no way he thought that. He couldn't.

I'm the one who's supposed to be feeling guilty and terrible right now. Not him. Everything about this is wrong.

"Fucking hell, are you 16 or 30?" Hajime exclaimed." You talk like an old man having a mid-life crisis about his marriage."

Oh why did he have to mention- No. Nope. No no no do not think about that do not think about that DO NOT THINK ABOUT THAT-

"Listen, I know this guy better than anyone else, all right? Anyone. Even you, even his family. And I don't like you, but I don't hate you either. And every time you guys go out he comes back all giddy and smiley and gross, like a lovestruck idiot, and he's even more annoying than usual. I don't know if you make him, like, the life-changing forever-lasting kind of happy. But you're a good boyfriend, dude."

"I... thank you, Iwaizumi. That means a lot coming from you."

"Yeah? Well, don't get used to it. Everything I know about your relationship I learned against my will."

They fell back into silence after that. And a few minutes later, two pairs of footsteps left the room and trailed down the stairs. Tooru kept his own eyes tightly shut, and willed himself back to sleep.

.  
.  
.

When he came downstairs, hours later, he came to the sight of Wakatoshi, still in his school uniform, sitting on his family's couch.

"Hi." He said, a little startled, voice higher than he's meant it to be.

"Hello," Wakatoshi said back, spine ramrod straight and refusing to look Tooru in the eye. "Iwaizumi let me in. Said that your parents wouldn't be home until late."

"Yeah, their work takes them down to Kyoto sometimes. It rarely happens, and usually everything's fine. This one was just… bad.timing."

"Right…" Wakatoshi looked up, and the worry and pain in those green eyes was obvious, even if the rest of his face was utterly blank.

"Listen-"

"Honestly, it's not like I need supervision or anything." Tooru interrupted him. "I'm not a child anymore."

Wakatoshi pointedly looked down, towards his knee. And Tooru followed his line of sight to the brace he was wearing.

"Oh. Yeah. About that." He smiled sheepishly and stepped further into the room to join his boyfriend on the couch.

"It's not that bad actually." He tried. "No permanent damage. I just have to wear this for a while and not put too much pressure on it. And then, once I go back, I'll have to wear a separate knee brace to practice For a few months, maybe a little longer. It's a good idea I got one of these anyways because my right knee has been weaker for a while now and-"

"Don't. Tooru, please stop."

It was the use of his first name that made him stop. Wakatoshi had never called him that before.

"You're lying to me"

"I'm not."

"Well, you're not being honest. You…" He ground his teeth "You– my apologies. I just-"

"Take your time, I'm right here." Tooru covered his hands with his own.

"You're.. trying to cover your emotions for my sake. You got hurt. You're allowed to be upset."

"But I'm not upset. I am mad, mostly at myself, to be honest."

"But– but something did go wrong Sunday!"

"Ah." Tooru let go of Wakatoshi's hands, the feeling of skin on skin suddenly was so hot it felt like burning. "That… I overreacted."

"Don't say that."

"But I did! It's the truth! You got a great opportunity and I got jealous instead of congratulating you like I should have."

But Wakatpshi refused to back down. "The way I brought it up was flawed. I was too blunt, and I shouldn't have done it in the middle f a date" He insisted.

"And then I tried to backtrack.m not knowing that you would read that as pity and only make things worse." He continued, not giving Toru a chance to intercept.

"On top of that? I did it right after winning against your team. And I've used those losses to hurt you before."

"But you didn't mean anything by it! And you apologized for it!"

"After three years, yes. Too late."

"So? It's past us now! I– I like you! It's not supposed to bother me anymore."

"Ah." He scratched the back "I'm really happy you like me."

As if he still needs reassurance for that

"But…"

He looked up, and his eyes directly met Tooru's for the first time since Sunday. It felt like it'd been weeks.

"When you say it's not supposed to bother you, it clearly does anyway. "

"Well, that's my own fault." Tooru grimaced. He had no idea how to explain that.

"These feelings… they're not rational. So they won't just go away because you told me something I already know."

"But if you do not communicate, I won't be able to support you as a boyfriend should," Wakatoshi said earnestly.

Tooru let out an embarrassed laugh, trying to hide how red his face was becoming. "Wow, since when did you get this smooth?"

"I read up on advice for romantic relationships in journals

"Wait…" There was no way he'd heard that right. "You read romance tips in magazines?"

"Yes. Mainly women's ones, since those were the only ones focused on boyfriends."

"You read romance tips in girls' magazines?!"

"And online blogs, sometimes. They're very helpful."

"Oh my god!" Tooru wheezed, doubling over in laughter. "Okay," he hiccupped "Sure! So, what does Mr. Love expert say about this?

"I suppose… we are both at fault here. This could have been avoided if we'd talked more openly. And that you need to take better care of yourself. Iwaizumi told me this isn't new."

Toru wanted to protest, to say that his involvement was way bigger than Wakatoshi's, but he swallowed his words. A self-pity party wouldn't be helpful. And asking his boyfriend to get mad at him instead of shouldering the blame wasn't gonna help either.

It wasn't like he'd be able to get someone as stupidly stubborn as Wakatoshi to change his mind anyway.

And that taking care of himself bit was a long time coming... resting your muscles was as important as training them, he knew that. But knowing and doing were two very different things.

"Fine. As long as you don't start coddling me. I'm not a baby, and I'm not made of glass."

"On the contrary, you're a very strong person."

Oh, gods. There's that straightforwardness again.

"I– uh. Okay. Good. As long as you don't start walking on eggshells around me. And I'll do my best not to get stuck in my own head again."

"That sounds reasonable. Thank you." Wakatoshi nodded, as if he was satisfied with the results and proud of himself for getting them.

"I think we can both learn from this and know how to do better." He continued.

That drew another laugh from Tooru. The pressure in his chest lifting a little. "Ha! Iwa-chan was right. You really do sound like you're 30 sometimes."

Wait. Fuck.

"You heard that?" Wakatpshi asked, shocked.

"Uh…" He chuckled nervously "I might have?"

Wakatoshi stared at him incredulously, fingers tightening around the fabric of his sleeve where he'd been fiddling with it.

"So, you also heard..."

"That whole bit about me not being happy with you? Or whatever bullshit you said? Yeah, I heard it."

"It wasn't-"

"Nope! It was stupid, and you're a moron." He stuck his tongue out and pulled a dumb face. "Idiot Waka-chan~"

Wakatoshi scowled. "There is no need to insult me."

"I'm not, though." The silly expression faded from Tooru's face, and he sighed. "Alright, now you listen to me. I don't like losing. I really really hate it. But even more than that, I hate feeling like losing is inevitable. That no matter how hard I work, it won't be enough. It feels like… there are claws around my neck and they're slowly closing in, and I'm just waiting until they get me, with nothing I can do about it."

He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself. Talking about him… it still bothered him.

"I had this kouhai, in middle school… Tobio-chan. And he was better than me. By a lot. Not yet, but he was learning faster than any of us could keep up with. He was a genius. And there was only a matter of time before he caught up to me."

Wakatoshi took his hand and slowly interlaced their fingers.

"And you see me like this as well? A genius?"

"Yeah, pretty much." He admitted.

Wakatoshi furrowed his eyebrows and pulled his lips into a thin line, frustrated.

"You don't agree?" Tooru asked

"I do not see myself as such." He answered.

"How do you see it then?"

He thought about it for a moment. "I've always simply considered myself lucky."

Something coiled inside of him unfurled. Something that had been there for so long that he'd stopped noticing it. But now it was gone, and it felt so weird that he couldn't help but laugh, a little hysterically.

"Luck, huh? That's all there is to it?"

"Of course not. I worked hard to get where I am." Wakatoshi said, affronted.

"But I do not think talent works like that. Something you either have or don't."

"No, it doesn't." Tooru sighed, shoulders sagging. "I know that, I do. But it's hard to shake the feeling."

"That makes no sense to me."

Tooru snorted. "Ha! Of course it doesn't! You're so logical, like a robot. You don't let stupid human stuff get in your way like the rest of us."

"I try not to let my emotions cloud my judgement. And I succeed, mostly. I didn't when I insisted that you come to Shiratorizawa and refused to see what was better for you."

"Yeah, you did. And it was stupid. And now I'm being stupid."

"I just want to find a way where I don't hurt you," Wakatoshi said. "

"Yeah… I think that might be impossible." At Wakatoshi's alarmed expression, he rushed to clarify. "Couples fight, don't they? It's inevitable. And it's also inevitable that one of us defeats the other to go to Nationals. And losing will always hurt. There's nothing we can do about that. But let me tell you this,"

He leaned in close.

"Never go easy on me, don't you dare."

"I would never. It would be a betrayal of my teammates and an insult to you." Came Wakatoshi's immediate answer.

"Good." Tooru closed the last of the distance between them and knocked their foreheads together, staring Wakatoshi straight in the eye. "Because I want to defeat you at your best."

"My best is far away from me, I won't reach it in high school."

"Then I want you at the best you can be right now. And I'll be there at your peak. I'll defeat you there too."

A fierce smile overtook his face, his eyes burning with hunger. "I look forward to it."

Gods, he looks good like this

He grabbed a fistful of Wakatoshi's hair and pulled him in for a kiss. Letting out a surprised noise when his boyfriend grabbed his hips and pulled him closer, while being mindful of his knee still stuck in the brace.

Eventually, Tooru pulled back. Wiping his mouth with the palm of his hand, keeping the other on the back of Waaktoshi's neck, playing with the small hairs there.

He needed to get one last thing off his chest. Something he should have said way earlier.

"Oh, and one last thing." He said.

"What?"

"I'm proud of you, Waka-chan." He stroked Wakatoshi's cheek. "And I'm happy for you. That camp is a huge opportunity. Make good use of it."

Talent was something you made bloom. Skill was something you polished. Work and talent were two sides of the same coin, not separate entities. They needed each other to exist.

"And when you go to nationals, you better win. I refuse to lose to a loser! Got it?"

"Understood."

"Good." His hands cupped his boyfriend's face and he leaned back in. "Now where were we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT! And that was officially the last angst chapter of this fic. I mean, there will be SOME angst in the future, probably. Because it's me and I don't know how to write anything that doesn't have at least a little bit of angst in it. But it's the last one that is focused only on angst. 3 was supposed to be the last one but I kinda felt like I resolved things too fast and wanted to show that, well, not everything is rainbows and sunshine. Relationships, especially between former enemies, can be rocky. 
> 
> There will also be a lot more time skips right now and less of a singular narrative, so pay attention to the dates in the chapter titles if you want to know the context of what time period they're in! 
> 
> If you actually follow this fic, and I honestly have no idea why you would do that but you have my eternal love and gratitude, you might have noticed this fic used to say it had 1 chapters and now says 11. So, here's a secret: That 10 was a lie and has been since the very beginning. There are probably going to be at least 14 chapters to this, depending on how many moments I want to include and where I want to end it. So yeah, that number will keep going up.


	6. 110108

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, it's been a while since I updated this, huh? Really sorry for that. Um, it's my birthday today! I'm officially an adult now. And I couldn't let it go by without giving you guys something so... this is it! The next update won't take as long, I promise.

"Oi, Iwaizumi! Hurry up with the popcorn already!" Issei yelled towards the kitchen. 

"Shut up, asshole. My mom's asleep upstairs" Hajime hissed back as he opened the bag of microwave popcorn and poured it into a bowl. 

Tooru snickered. "Don't let him scare you Mattsun, auntie's a heavy sleeper. I've sneaked into here in the middle of the night so many times and she never woke up!" He picked up the remote and twirled it in his hand. "Hurry up, Iwa-chan! Or we're gonna start the movie without you." 

"I got it already! Don't you fucking dare, shittykawa!" 

"Does he always curse this much at home?" Takahiro asked, 

"Always!” Tooru said gleefully. “He used to do it at school too, but Mikamura-sensei caught him and he got detention so now he can't anymore."

"Alright, I'm here. Stop talking about me and start up the movie already." Hajime shoved the bowl in Tooru’s face and plopped down on the couch next to him. 

“Alright alright, mean Iwa-chan.” Tooru turned on the TV and selected the movie Issei picked out for them. 

Some Western horror movie, of the really bad kind. Issei insisted that they had something that the (much better) Japanese ones just… didn't. That there was a whole thing about hate-watching these and laughing at the stupid decisions all the white kids make. 

Tooru had his doubts, the only western stuff he really liked was sci-fi and this was  _ not _ Alien, but some stupid slasher B-movie thing. But at least Hajime was much less good with horror movies than he was, so he'd get a whole night of seeing him scared for his life and getting to make fun of him instead. Small victories. 

He wondered idly if Wakatoshi liked horror movies. Probably not.  _ Definitely _ not. He could hear it already.  _ "I do not understand why they simply don't call the police" _ blah blah blah. He knew the exact expression he'd have, too. That little frown he got whenever something annoyed and confused him at the same time, that proud uptilt of his chin, the scowl tugging on his lips. It was adorable and infuriating at the same time. 

Wakatoshi probably didn't even understand the concept of hate-watching something, let alone something meant to scare you. 

Wouldn't it be  _ fun  _ if he was scared of them, though? To have such a large guy, so strong and seemingly indomitable, be brought to his knees by fake blood splatters and jump-scares. Fucking hilarious. 

… Kinda cute too, really. Maybe Tooru  _ should _ try to get him to watch a horror movie as a date once. If only for the off chance of having Wakatoshi cling onto him, and getting to be that guy from the dramas his sister always watches, who holds the female lead in his arms and tells her, half-teasing but still sincere, that she doesn't need to be scared because he'll protect her. 

A loud screeching noise from the TV ripped him out of his thoughts and when he turned to the screen, he was met with the sight of someone's freshly disembodied head rolling over the floor, blood still spraying from the wound. 

He jumped, and accidentally knocked over the bowl of popcorn with his knee, sending the whole thing spraying over the carpet and Issei and Takahiro's heads. 

… Okay. So maybe a no to the horror movie date, then. 

"Dude!" Takahiro spluttered. "What was  _ that?" _

"What is it, Shittykawa?  _ Scared  _ of a little decapitation?" Hajime grinned viciously, but his shoulders were tense and his back was rigidly straight, as far pressed up into the backrest of the sofa as he could be. 

"Shut up, Iwa-chan! I know you're scared too! You're gonna be wetting your pants by the time this thing is halfway done. Maybe focus on that instead of me.  _ I'll _ be fine." 

Back on screen, a girl screamed, followed by a shot of a chainsaw revving up. 

Hajime's eyes shifted between Tooru and the TV before he sighed, lightly kicked Tooru in the shin, and shoved the nearly empty bowl into his hands. "Whatever. But I am not gonna make popcorn anymore. You ruined it, so you go make more, Crappykawa." 

"Fine!" Tooru huffed and made his way to the kitchen. If he snuck in a few hands of still-warm popcorn right after it was done, then it was his friends' fault for sending him there on his own in the first place. Screw them. 

When he got back, the popcorn was immediately stolen from him by his friends on the floor, but the movie seemed to finally be getting to something (that something being the slaughter of half the cast, but that was at least more enjoyable than whatever semblance of a story had been going on before) and every terribly-acted and even more terribly-directed moment was undercut with sarcastic commentary from its four-man audience. 

As a boy and a girl started making out and pulling each other's clothes as soon as they found an empty bedroom (in the fucking haunted house, holy  _ shit _ these people were stupid) and predictably got slaughtered, Issei cackled and threw a popcorn kernel at their terrified faces. 

"See this is why I don't have a girlfriend," he said, gesturing at the screen. "Couples never survive these things." 

Takahiro chortled. "Oh yeah,  _ that's  _ why you're single, huh? No other reason? Just beating the girls off of you with a stick in case your life becomes a terrible American slasher film." 

"Well yeah, obviously," Issei said with a straight face, though he clearly had to work to keep the smile at bay.

"Oh man, you're right. You have a very specific type too, huh? Since these girls who like you so much are all invisible." 

"Oi! Like you're doing any better! I don't think you've actually talked to a girl that wasn't a teacher, your mother, or one of your sisters in weeks!"

"You're both embarrassing. That's why you don't have girlfriends." Hajime said. 

"Well only  _ one _ of us has a dedicated fanclub" Issei countered.

"Oh! Yeah, Oikawa's definitely gonna get a girlfriend first."

"Nah, dude. By the end of next year he'll have turned down every girl in the region and there won't be any left." 

Hajime froze and threw Tooru a wary look. Way too obvious.  _ Geez, learn some subtlety.  _

…

Not that it mattered.

Now was as good a time as any, right? And really, he'd been thinking about it for a while. 

Since late December, in a tiny sidestreet outside a museum, in an attempt to get some little privacy, to have a moment hidden away from the rest of the world. When Wakatoshi had pulled away from the kiss and had said, still breathless  _ "I want to tell my father about us" _

_ "Why?" _

_ "It is important to me that he knows. Do I need another reason?"  _

Simple, as always.

And Tooru had never been afraid of taking risks. His willingness to do crazy things and adaptability were what got him a starting spot as a setter. He was well aware of that.

But those were  _ calculated _ risks. Things he'd done a hundred times over in a gym already. Things he was familiar enough with to 

Something like telling his best friend. 

He'd done plenty of stupid things too, heat of the moment on the fly decisions that usually tended to blow up in his face. 

Telling the guy he despised most in the world, just out of a misplaced feeling of  _ losing _ to him if he didn't.

Well... that one hadn't turned out so bad. 

_ "I am positive my father will be accepting if that's what you're worried about." _

_ "But you're not sure?" _

_ "I've never broached the subject with him before. But I know him, and he's an open-minded man."  _

He liked Takahiro and Issei. Out of all the first years, they were the ones he and Hajime immediately clicked with. They fit right in, even if they didn't come from Kitagawa Daiichi and knew him from middle school like nearly half of the Seijoh team did.

_ "...If you don't want me to, then I won't, of course." _

_ "You don't have to jump to conclusions, Waka-chan! I'm still thinking about it. Just give me a moment."  _

It was a leap of faith. No real way to check someone's reaction. Only vague reactions to the subject if or ever came up in conversation to guide you, never able to prod too much without revealing yourself. In the end, it came down to trust. 

He might never be able to tell his parents. Not anytime soon, at least. 

But Mattsun and Makki…

No real way to know, is there? Just jump and hope you don't botch the landing.

_ "And?" _

_ "Okay, but then I want to tell my friends." _

He paused the TV.

"Actually," he said, quasi-casual as their faces turned back at him. "I don't think I'm ever gonna get a girlfriend." 

"Wait, seriously?" Hajime frowned at him. "You wanna do this  _ now _ ?" 

"Do what now?" Takahiro "what the hell are you talking about?" 

"And what do you mean you're never gonna get a girlfriend?" 

"You got some kinda secret to tell us, Oikawa? Some  _ problems _ ," he made a crude gesture "causing trouble when it comes to the ladies?" He smirked, trying to gauge their reactions.  _ No? It's serious? Okay, got it. _

"Just tell us" 

Run up. Close your eyes. And  _ jump. _

"I'm gay." 

Silence. Blank stares. 

"Huh," Issei mumbled, "didn't expect that." 

Takahiro scratched his head. "Yeah, um. That's cool." 

All of the tension in his body left at once, and he burst out laughing. " _ That's cool? _ " He wheezed out, doubling over "That's all you have to say?" 

"I- well, yeah! What else do you want?"

The cackling dissolved into a coughing fit, and Hajime roughly patted him on the back "I don't know!" He said as soon as he regained some of his breath. "But something more than "that's cool!" I was hyping myself up for that for ages! Trying to, I dunno build to something! And you just struck me down! The moment is gone!" 

"Sorry Makki ruined your big speech-"

"Hey!"

"But it's probably a good thing. You look extremely lame when you're trying to be dramatic." Hajime deadpanned.

"Well, it doesn't have to be a big deal. I don't care." Issei said, throwing Takahiro a questioning look.

"Oh yeah, me neither. Good for you." He chimed in. 

"I feel kinda sorry for all those girls that are in love with you, though. You just broke all of their hearts."

"They'll get over it as soon as they get a glimpse of his personality." 

Tooru scowled. "Gee, thanks guys, I feel very loved." 

"Anything for you, honey" Issei winked theatrically. But then his expression froze.

"Wait. It's not like you have a crush on any of us, right?"

"Ew, what? Gross! No!" 

"Eh?! You don't have to act so disgusted." 

"Yeah! What the hell? We'd be great boyfriends!"

"Didn't you  _ just _ talk about how you wanted to be single just in case you'd get killed earlier in a horror movie?"

Hajime snorted. "Alright guys, calm down. I'm sure that if you were gay, you'd have guys lining up or whatever." 

"You don't have to sound so sarcastic saying it."

"Not the point, cause this guy," he pointed at Tooru. "Already has a boyfri-"

"NO!" Tooru shrieked, he tackled Hajime and slapped his hands over his tattletale mouth. " _ I'm _ telling them."

"Oh? Tell us  _ what _ , Oikawa?" Issei teasingly wiggled his eyebrows 

"Yeah, wanna finish that sentence?" Takahiro joined in, propping his elbows up on the sofa to look at Tooru expectantly.

_ How did the tables turn against me again so fast?  _

"So… I have a boyfriend." He scratched his head. "Have for a while, actually, we've been dating since summer. Though… he asked me out on white day, so I guess our first date was in March."

What  _ was _ their anniversary anyway? They should get that straightened out so they could celebrate it properly. 

"Wait," Takahiro interrupted his thoughts. "That's as long as you've known us! You've just had a boyfriend this whole time?" 

"Uh, yup?"

"Dude..." Takahiro sank back onto the carpet and stared at the ceiling. 

"You really  _ are _ the first one in a relationship, huh? Guess I was right in some way." 

"Ask him who it is!" Hajime yelled. Tooru kicked him in the face. "Ow! You're gonna regret that shittykawa!" 

"Wait, we know him?" Issei asked 

Hajime cackled, wrestling Tooru's foot away from his face. "Oh, you definitely do!" 

"Iwa-chan! I said  _ I'm _ telling them!" 

"Go do it then!"

" _ Fine _ ! It's Ushiwaka." 

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed. Though it only lasted for a few seconds, as they both processed what he'd just said. Tooru could imagine a metaphorical loading bar above their head, slowly filling up as the data was loaded to their head. 

_ Loading, please wait a few moments _

And then the bar reached 100% and he could see the moment it clicked for both of them. 

_ Loading complete _

"WAIT A MINUTE-"

"USHIWAKA? FROM SHIRATORIZAWA?" 

They scrambled up from their places on the carpet, looking aghast. 

"Don't you hate him?" 

"Is this some kinda joke? Stop messing with us!" 

"I don't hate him!" Tooru protested "... Anymore. I used to. He's just so annoying!" 

"You're… talking about the guy you're dating?" Takahiro looked between him and Hajime as if he was waiting for one of them to jump up and reveal it had all been just a prank. 

"Well, he is annoying! I'm just saying it like it is! But, sometimes it's cute. Like when he doesn't understand when I'm sarcastic and just looks at me like some gigantic confused puppy-" 

"Ugh, here he goes again." Hajime groaned, falling back on the couch. 

"He does this?" Issei asked with a raised eyebrow and a grimace. 

Hajime nodded grimly "All the fucking time. They go on dates every Sunday and every time he gets lovesick and gross and just starts telling the whole thing back to me." 

"Hey!" 

"It's so sad. Sometimes I actually miss the times when you still hated him and kept talking about how awful he was and how badly you wanted to defeat him. Seems you're just fated to be obsessed with him in some kinda way"

"Am  _ not! _ "

"Are too." 

" _ Am not! _ "

" _ Are too!"  _

“Shut up! I was never obsessed with Waka-chan” 

A choked noise came from behind them. “You call him  _ Waka-chan?! _ ” 

"Not the point! And I'm definitely not gonna stop trying to defeat him just cause he's my boyfriend! One day I'll crush him beneath the palm of my hand. I'm gonna make him get on his knees and admit  _ I'm _ the one who beat him!" 

"Wow," he looked up at his friends' amused faces. "You look like you're gonna kill somebody." 

"Well, if it doesn't affect the team it's not our business. Not that it was in the first place. " Takahiro shrugged. "I really don't get why you'd wanna date Ushiwaka, but good for you." 

"Thanks, guys, and I mean it this time." He said.

They fell into a moment of quiet, only the howling of the wind outside to break the silence. 

"...Wait, that's it?" Issei asked

"You got anything to add?"

"No. It just… feels underwhelming? I mean, I don't know how this is supposed to go. I've only seen this happen on TV and it's always a big climactic moment.”

Tooru huffed, "Well I was  _ trying _ to make it big but all of you interrupted me every second!” 

“Because you were being stupid.”

“Iwa-chan! It was my moment!”

"What, you want a group hug or something?" Takahiro asked mockingly

"I-" he bristled, thought better of it, and sunk back into the pillows. "Nevermind, I don’t care. You’re all mean to me. Just put the movie back on."

Hajime stiffened, and his eyes shot to the TV, paused on a scene of someone about to be sawed in half. "Do we really need to? I forgot the whole plot already, it was so stupid."

Tooru pointed a triumphant finger at him. "Ha! I  _ knew _ you were scared!" 

"Shut up! I'm not!" 

"No one watches horror movies for the  _ plot _ , Iwa, I don't even remember any of these people's names." Mattsun stole the remote from Tooru and clicked play. 

"Oh for fuck's sakes. Fine." Hajime settled back on the couch, softly elbowing Tooru 

_ I'm proud of you. I support you. Or whatever. _

Tooru smiled, and he elbowed him back, a bit harder than probably should. Hajime deserved it for making fun of him, though. Jerk.

And as the blood-soaked monstrosity of a film on the screen went on, Tooru continued shoveling popcorn into his mouth, content. 

_ Guess I could stick the landing after all. _

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT HAS BEEN WAY TOO LONG. I PROMISE THE NEX TONE WILL BE SOONER. I AM /NOT/ DONE WITH THIS FIC YET GUYS I WILL COMPLETE IT, I SWEAR. 
> 
> But, hey, if you've been starved for Ushioi content recently because writers like me can't keep up with our update schedules, please check out [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29624781) by my friend akiyo! She wrote it for my birthday and it's amazing, I love her so much.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me [here](https://twitter.com/lgbtloonaverse) on twitter! I'm always in the mood for crying about rarepairs together.


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